Poketopia: Gathering of the Heroes
by Maecenas
Summary: A grand and dazzling tournament story like none you've seen before. Intense battles, unforgettable characters, action, drama and romance against the backdrop of the world of Pokemon Battle Revolution! This...is Poketopia! Accepting OCs through PM only.
1. Chapter 1: The Invitation

**Disclaimer: in this and the entirety of this story, I will make no claim to own the franchise of Pokemon in any way, shape, or form-this is merely a respectful fan fiction. Nintendo and Game Freak completely own Pokemon. Neither do I own the OC's used throughout the story, all of which belong to their respective authors. However, I do own the characters of Maecenas and Mycroft, neither of which may be used without my permission. And now that that's over and done with…**

An invitation, printed on thick and heavy paper with the watermark of a light blue circle with three wing-like protrusions on either side surrounding a capital letter P. It reads as follows:

_Our congratulations to you! You have been invited to a tournament that will be taking place two weeks from now on the island of Pokѐtopia. This island, for those who do not know, is a theme park dedicated to the fine art of the Pokemon battle that has recently become a highly popular vacation destination. It sports ten Colosseums, each of which provides unique challenges to the Trainer, as well as countless high-quality shops, restaurants, hotels and other amenities. This particular tournament was scheduled to celebrate the beginning of construction of a new stadium in Pokѐtopia, which will be used specifically for battles between rival trainers rather than organized Colosseum challenges. To join, please fill out the information asked for below and return it with the Taillow that has brought it. Please be descriptive for our tournament scribes!_

First and last name:

Appearance (height, hair and eye color, clothing, etc. etc.):

Age (only certified Pokemon Trainers-that is, those ages ten and up-will be able to qualify):

Hometown (region and city):

Favorite food (for our opening banquet):

Back history (including how you became a trainer and where your travels have taken you, as well as your personality and general battle style, also your current occupation [trainer, breeder, coordinator, etc.]):

Pokemon team (full listing of all attacks is not required, but please provide gender, species, nickname and personality description; banned Pokemon include Mewtwo, Lugia, Ho-oh, Groudon, Kyogre, Rayquaza, Deoxys, Dialga, Palkia, Giratina, Darkrai, and Arceus):

The greatest memory of your Pokemon journey:

Accomplishments and Awards (any and all Badges, Ribbons, league qualifications, prior tournament experiences, and so on):

Please also indicate whether you would prefer single or double battles for the first round.

_The tournament rules and guidelines, as well as a map showing the coordinates of the island and a form for those who wish to travel by Pokѐtopia Airlines, are enclosed in the envelope. Ports from which Pokѐtopia may be easily reached include Vermilion City, Olivine City, Goldenrod City, Cianwood City, Slateport City, Lilycove City, Mossdeep City, Canalave City, Snowpoint City, and Sunyshore City. Please be at the front desk in two weeks with this invitation and your trainer's ID to sign in, and you will receive further information concerning your battling schedules. Good luck and we look forward to seeing you at the tournament!_

_Ms. Anna_

_Pokѐtopia receptionist and general manager_

**A hearty welcome to everyone from Maecenas, your tournament scribe! As this is where I start this off, this will be my longest Author's Notes. Be patient, I'll try to not ramble on too much!**

**This is my first fan fiction here, and it's a tournament story, inspired by ****kyuuketsuki fang****'s excellent Lilycove Tournament: And the Battle Begins! (Go check it out; I even have an OC in there). Fittingly enough, my story starts with a very similar invitation, just because it's the best way to set up for the introduction of all of the characters I'll hopefully be receiving. However, don't take it to be a cheap copy or anything-from here on out it will get very different, the glorious (and less destructible) setting of Poketopia (the island where Pokemon Battle Revolution takes place, for those who don't know) being but one example! Anyone who wants to, from this point onwards, may submit their character according to the guidelines above, and I'll use as many of them as I can. I'm a very busy person with school going on and all, so I'm afraid I can't promise any sort of pattern to the updates of my new chapters, but I'll do the best I can.**

**So, everyone, welcome to Pokѐtopia and thanks for reading this first "chapter"! An actual plot shall develop when I get some characters. I think this'll be fun.**

**Maecenas out.**


	2. Chapter 2: The Trainers Gather

**Disclaimer: Same as before. I claim ownership to nothing but Maecenas, Mycroft and the plotline. Full OC credits below.**

Over the next few days, the letters began to reach their destinations.

It was a beautiful summer day in Lilycove City. Wingull wheeled in lazy circles across the clear blue sky, an invigorating salty breeze blew in from the sea, and the sun gleamed off the many walls and windows of the metropolis, some of which showed signs of recently repaired damage.

In a small, but clean and tastefully decorated house near the heart of the city, the well-known trainer and battle scholar Mycroft Williamson leaned back in a chair near the window, reading his invitation with interest. He was a tall, thin man of twenty-one, with slate-colored hair and deep violet eyes, and was dressed as usual in a suit and top hat, a rose corsage and small, decorative pince-nez. His Mesprit, Thalia, was currently perched on his shoulder, its eyes glittering with excitement.

"You think I should enter, correct?" he asked, setting the letter down on his desk. The Emotion Pokemon nodded and took flight, soaring around the room.

"I won't pretend it isn't an attractive concept. But you do remember the last tournament I entered, don't you? I've just spent a good deal of the family fortune helping to repair the city."

Mycroft shuddered in a refined way, thinking back to the Lilycove Tournament, which had concluded several weeks ago. The tournament had turned out to be a ruse designed by forces of unspeakable evil, and between that and an easily offended Trainer with a Gyarados, large portions of Lilycove City had been decimated. Part of the stadium, which was normally the Contest Hall, was still in wreckage. The city's residents had been hypnotized at one point, and Mycroft himself had fought a battle to the death with a rampaging Lugia, been eliminated in the first Tag Battle round and even lost a cufflink.

On the other hand, though… Mycroft gazed at the poster of the Seafoam Islands on his wall. There was nothing he enjoyed more than traveling the world and meeting interesting new Trainers. The thrill of battle was still important to him, and as bizarre as it might sound he had even enjoyed being in the Lilycove Tournament. He should be jumping at this new chance to hone his skills. Besides, he had been to Pokѐtopia many times before. What could go wrong there?

He would attend, he decided – reading his emotions, Thalia did a happy flip – but, he told himself as he began to fill out the information required in flowing script, he would do a few background checks beforehand.

*****

Gazing out of the window while wrestling with the difficult task of describing his own personality, Mycroft spotted a large dark bird which he quickly identified as a Honchkrow flying overhead. Honchkrow weren't native to Hoenn, and as he looked closer Mycroft spotted a scarlet ribbon tied around its head. Beyond a doubt, this identified it as belonging to his old friend and traveling companion, Maecenas. Throwing the window open, Mycroft waved it in.

The Honchkrow landed heavily on the desk in a flurry of feathers, gave a weary caw of greeting and tossed Mycroft the scroll it had held in one claw before slumping to the ground. Mycroft brought the exhausted bird Pokemon a bowl of water, which it gulped down gratefully, then unfurled the scroll and began to read his friend's message, written in a familiar scrawl:

_Hi, Mycroft!_

_I hope you're OK with the weather out in Lilycove. What a summer – Sinnoh has been a total oven! Route 228 has been totally deserted for about a week and I'm spending all my time in Snowpoint City._

_Anyway, what am I doing talking about the weather? I'm guessing you got invited to this new tournament in Pokѐtopia, too. I got my invitation yesterday and I'll be leaving for Pokѐtopia as soon as Honchkrow gets back. This should be a ton of fun – we've both been to Pokѐtopia before, and it's one great place! My team is in top form! I heard something about an opening banquet, too …_

_Well, I'll see you there! You can tell me about that tournament I saw you were in earlier. It looked … interesting._

_Lucario sends his regards!_

_Valѐ! Maecenas_

Mycroft chuckled at the letter, which was very typical of his enthusiastic friend. Maecenas' Lucario was one of the toughest members of its species, and one of the few Pokemon that Mycroft's polished team had never stood a chance against. He turned the letter over and wrote on the back,

_I will indeed see you at the tournament. Lilycove's weather has been perfect, and I believe that a cooler front should hit Sinnoh soon. And for heaven's sake, buy yourself a boat ticket in Snowpoint City. Don't fly on Honchkrow the whole way there. You don't want her to be worn out before the tournament even starts! I shall probably see you at the banquet regardless. _

_Yours,_

_Mycroft_

Rolling the paper back into a scroll, he turned to Thalia, who had been waiting patiently for him all this time. "Come, my friend, we have a boat ticket to purchase," he said, recalling the Pokemon back into its Quick Ball. He added to Honchkrow, who was now perched on his bookcase, "We can stop at the Lilycove Wharf restaurant on the way to give you a good meal before your next long flight. How do fish tacos sound to you?"

The Honchkrow gave a satisfied squawk and followed him out the door, both of them thinking of the adventure awaiting them in Pokѐtopia.

Mossdeep City.

It was early in the morning, and the sun was just beginning to rise. The island was still blanketed in mist, and silence filled the air. On the beach of a small ocean inlet stood fifteen-year-old Xavier Omnik, his Milotic by his side.

Xavier, a tall boy with messy red-orange hair who was wearing his trademark headphones, was in an unusually reflective mood. He picked up a small rock from the ground and tossed it into the water, watching the ripples spread slowly outward.

"Remember, Milotic?" he asked his Pokemon, grinning. "This is where we did all of that training back when you were still a Feebas, before we took on all of those Wailmer. It's amazing how far we've come since then, isn't it?"

Xavier pulled a crumpled map of Pokѐtopia from his pocket-he had already returned the invitation with all of the necessary statistics filled out-and gazed at it happily. He had had been thrilled to be invited to another tournament so soon, after all off the friends he'd made in Lilycove City. The decision to go had been easy, even without the tantalizing mention of an opening banquet…

Abruptly recalling Milotic to its Pokѐball, Xavier settled his headphones more firmly around his ears and cranked up the first song of the day on his portable radio: an inspiring melody of determination, adventure and infinite possibility. Already more energized, he tossed a Pokѐball into the air.

The red-and-white sphere exploded into a titanic Flygon, which rose and flapped its wings dramatically, superimposed against the gorgeous sunrise.

"Let's go, Flygon! To Pokѐtopia!" shouted Xavier, jumping onto the Pokémon's back. The Flygon let out a roar, thwacked its tail onto the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust, and took to the sky. Mossdeep Island fell away behind them as they soared into the morning air, the music swelling into an inspiring chorus.

From a house near the coast, a tall Trainer in a green samurai outfit watched them depart with interest, then turned away.

"Good luck, Xavier. You might need it," said Kane Yaiba to himself.

Route 226, near the Survival Area.

Kricketune chirped and warbled faintly in the distance, and the shadows of the few clouds in the sky darkened patches of the surrounding mountains. The air was full of the heat of summer. A nineteen-year-old girl with dark blue hair and gray eyes was sprawled on the grass of the outcropping of a cliff, arguing with the Camerupt that stood next to her.

"I told you no," said Lucianne Delaray, with an air of finality. The Camerupt snorted inquisitively.

"You know I don't like to do things like this. I was invited to the tournament in that Lilycove place last month and I didn't go. Look what happened there-it turned out to be, like, a literal disaster. Someone unleashed a Lugia! And besides, Pokѐtopia is a big city. I'd get lost looking for my first battle!"

The Camerupt, whose name was Boomer, chose to ignore this and merely stared out over the valley between the mountains, disinterestedly watching two Fearow squabbling far below.

Luce sighed, breaking the silence that had stretched between them. "I know that you and the rest of the team would really like to go to this, but I'm really just not sure it would be a good idea. Can you give me one good reason that we should attend?

For an answer, the Camerupt reached out and nudged one of the two decorative feathers that hung from the girl's hair, the red one. The color of flames, of impulsive passion, of…

Luce gasped, then sat down abruptly and gazed into the distance for a while, a wistful impression etched onto her face. Finally she got up and turned to Camerupt.

"I-I think you're right. It's something he might have done. We should go." The Camerupt looked at her peacefully.

Recalling it to its Pokѐball, Luce jumped expertly off the outcropping and ran lightly down the side of the cliff. If she was going to reach the Fight Area by the afternoon, she'd have to start now.

Although she tried not to think about it, she was grateful that she was going to the tournament. Maybe Camerupt had been right after all.

Veilstone City.

The Veilstone Pokemon Gym was bustling with noise and activity. Bricks shattered, punching bags swung dangerously from their fixtures and shouts of exertion filled the air. A full-scale martial arts lesson was taking place.

In the center of the mayhem stood two sixteen-year-old girls and a Pokemon, excelling more than anyone at the frantic display of athleticism. One of the girls was Maylene, the Veilstone Gym Leader, and the other was her best friend Megan Rayme. Both of them were currently wearing white karate outfits and panting with exertion. Maylene's Lucario stood beside them.

A sudden disturbance made Megan look up. Someone or other was pushing through the crowd, causing many Black Belts to stop what they were doing and move out of the way. Eventually the newcomer made their way to where Maylene and Megan were standing, revealing itself to be Vera, Megan's own Lucario.

Vera dashed up to them, but upon noticing Maylene's Lucario forgot where it was and ran straight past them into a punching bag, which swung back and knocked it to the floor. Getting herself up with some difficulty, Vera sheepishly walked up to Megan and gave her the letter she had been holding. Megan read through it quickly, then, with a satisfied expression, folded it and stuffed it into a pocket of her karate uniform.

"What's up?" asked Maylene, coming over.

Megan's eyes shone as she responded, "I just got an invitation to a Pokemon tournament in Pokѐtopia! People from all over the world are supposed to be coming, and it starts next week!"

"That's great!" said Maylene enthusiastically. "So are you going to attend? I know that last tournament was…kind of a disaster…."

"Not so much for me," Megan responded brightly. "I won a tag battle against Volkner and Cynthia, remember? Besides, I've always wanted to go to Pokѐtopia-it's supposed to be amazing!"

"Well, if I know you you'll be leaving right away. So have a great time! Maybe I'll come to watch some of…"

Maylene was cut off by the gym doors slamming open to admit a wild-eyed Trainer, who roared something along the lines of "I hereby challenge this Gym and its Leader! Victory shall be mine!"

"Black Belts, into position!" called Maylene, before turning back to Megan with a sigh. "Then again, maybe I won't be able to make it. Go win a few battles for me!"

"Will do! Keep an eye on the Gym," and with that Megan ran out the door, her Lucario following in her footsteps. Vera swiped a clawed paw in the general vicinity of the challenger, and he jumped back a foot, promptly falling into one of the platforms. Maylene sighed, knowing that it was going to be a long day.

**Well, there we go-the first real chapter is completed! Thanks to everyone who submitted your OC's; more of them will be introduced in the chapters to come. This is only the beginning! For the meantime, here are the credits of the characters I did use already:**

**-Mycroft and Maecenas-yours truly**

**-Luce-kyuuketsuki fang (referred to as fang or from here on, which will save space and my sanity)**

**-Xavier-LastPrelude**

**-Kane-KK the Prophet**

**-Megan-Fire Drastar**

**I figure that those just joining us deserve an explanation of Maecenas and Mycroft's characters, seeing as how there aren't any full descriptions of them available in the reviews with all of the other characters. The short of it is that they're based on the Trainers I designed in Pokemon Battle Revolution for my two Pokemon Pearl teams, and that my account name is after Maecenas rather than vice versa. Mycroft was previously featured in Lilycove Tournament: And the Battle Begins! The long of it is here, for those interested:**

Name: Mycroft Williamson  
Age: 21  
Gender: Male  
Occupation: Trainer, battle scholar  
Hometown: right here in Lilycove, but has been traveling abroad for years.  
Appearance: Tall and somewhat thin, with blue-gray hair and violet eyes. Dressed in a top hat and suit (the Formal Set A from Pokemon Battle Revolution, to be specific) as well as a rose corsage and small pince-nez. He's very particular about his appearance.  
Personality: Mycroft is rich, upper-class and refined, but not snobbish to others, and he's a really nice guy to get to know. Always very polite, and clever to a fault, an excellent strategic battler. The thrill of battle is the spice of his life, and his excitement can sometimes overpower his refinement in a tight situation. Any trainer who always acts superior and snubs others is just begging for a challenge from him.  
History: Raised in Lilycove City high society, spent years traveling throughout all regions and honing his team to perfection. Traveled for some time with a trainer named Maecenas. He has spent some time on the ocean, making him used to maritime conditions. Due to his travels, it's extremely likely that he's met at least one of the competitors in the past, and may have an old rivalry with them. Maecenas' Lucario is one of the few Pokemon who's ever bested his team, so he knows a good deal about that species.  
Accomplishments: Badges from all four regions, championships in Hoenn and Sinnoh, all Hoenn Frontier Symbols and was interrupted from his Sinnoh Battle Frontier quest for this tournament, currently has Castle and Factory prints. Has had some training in Fiore as a Pokemon Ranger, which gives him an unusual bond with his team.

Pokemon:  
Thalia the Mesprit-Mycroft spent a year hunting it through Sinnoh, and has finished training it recently. It has very high attack power, which usually surprises opponents who expect Special moves from it only to be smashed by Iron Tail. Also a Trick Room user.  
Welzz the Whiscash (male)-sort of a team mascot, it's happy and carefree and has a habit of bursting from its Pokѐball unasked and trying to eat Mycroft's top hat-rather in the manner of James' Carnivine. Its Hydro Pump is rarely known to miss.  
Gawain the Gallade (Male)-The warrior of the team, empathetic and loyal. Has used its Skill Swap in many clever strategies and has a long standing rivalry with Lucario.  
Watson the Electivire (male)-A slightly uncommon Special-attacking Electivire and a more recent acquisition to the team. Tough, weathered and loyal, like an old sailor. Some of its attacks are Focus Blast, Flamethrower and HP Ice, along with the usual Electric assortment.  
Carnegie the Shiny Metagross-The pure power behind the team. Being a chunk of metal, its personality can be hard to read but it seems to be fairly easygoing. Mycroft can fly to different destinations on it thanks to its Magnet Rise.  
Magellan the Walrein (male)-a tough and burly Walrein, Mycroft's first Pokemon. Its favorite strategy is the Hail/Ice Body combo (make it snow in the stadium!) and other moves include Blizzard and Brine.

Favorite Memory as a Trainer: Probably when he finally caught Thalia after hunting it through Sinnoh for a year using nothing but his wits, Maecenas' Lucario, which he'd borrowed temporarily for its useful Extremespeed, and fifty Quick Balls. A close second would be his climactic battle with Maecenas a while ago, despite his loss.

Favorite food will be mentioned later.

**That was pretty lengthy, and seeing as Maecenas hasn't appeared yet and I haven't composed a full summary for him yet, I'll upload that one with a later chapter.**

**In other notes, I've fixed my Word program to automatically add the combining acute accent to "Pok****ѐ****topia****" and related phrases. The only one I can't do that to is Pokemon itself, but whatever. You guys all know what I'm talking about anyway.**

**In response to KK the Prophet's question, some Legendaries are indeed allowed, although I'm guessing Thalia's appearance sorted that out for you already. It's everyone allowed in the Battle Tower, plus the "small, cute" types like Mew and Manaphy. I added those mainly out of convenience to myself, since Mycroft is, again, based on one of my Pearl teams, which includes Thalia, and I didn't want to change it. :) Maecenas has a Manaphy, as well, and one of the OCs I got has a Celebi. But you guys will still have to check your Darkrai at the door!**

**Thanks again to all my readers! I welcome your questions, comments and feedback. In particular, let me know if there's any way I can portray your character better and I'll try my best to implement it. Thanks for all of the positive feedback I've gotten so far!**

**Maecenas out.**


	3. Chapter 3: Destination Poketopia

**Disclaimer: The same as before. Maecenas, Mycroft, and the plot are mine. But nothing else. Unless you count a lot of frozen pizzas, some country music CDs, a pretty large Pokemon merchandise collection…you get the idea.**

"Welcome to Pokѐtopia Airlines, and thank you for choosing to fly with us today. A special welcome to the tournament competitors on board, and good luck to all of you! We have now reached our cruising altitude of approximately ten thousand feet and should reach Pokѐtopia Island within an hour. We invite you to sit back, relax and enjoy the flight!"

Brilliant blue skies and wispy clouds that refracted the sunlight into countless rainbows flew past as the jet soared through the air. There were an unusual number of teenagers on board, many of them looking excited and a bit impatient, for-as the flight attendant had explained-this was the day the entrants of the tournament would be traveling to Pokѐtopia.

Xavier, whose Flygon had only taken him as far as the airport, leaned back contentedly in his chair, listening to his headphones as always-he'd tuned them in to the floaty jazz music provided by the airline-and leafing through the in-flight catalog, underlining things he'd buy-or get his friends to buy for him-later. His Ninjask was perched on his shoulder, looking out of the window and basking in the sun, and Xavier would occasionally toss it a honey-roasted almond from the bag of mixed nuts he'd been given.

Next to him, Luce Delaray wasn't in as good a mood. Though she'd gotten swept up in her Pokémon's enthusiasm for the tournament over the past few days, she couldn't help getting second thoughts about the whole thing about every fifteen minutes. Being on this cramped, noisy plane stuck next to a kid who'd been listening to loud music on his headphones the whole time hadn't helped either.

Luce had noticed a strategic battle channel on the list of entertainment options in the in-flight magazine earlier, and now she thought of it and sighed. She might as well do something useful to pass the time, she told herself, pulling the plane headphones from the seat pocket in front of her (Xavier had glanced once at his pair, snorted, and immediately plugged his own headphones, which were roughly five times larger and much sturdier, into the port on his armrest).

Luce began fiddling with the TV that was mounted above her, instantly beginning to sweat as the screen resolutely displayed nothing but static. Suddenly she remembered how even the slightest interaction with technology would inevitably end in disaster for her. Judging from the surprised shouts of the other passengers as all of their TVs simultaneously shorted out, they wished that she would have remembered earlier as well.

Luce blushed with embarrassment as an acidic smoke from the damaged appliances filled the air. Perhaps she'd be safer just looking out the window, she decided, and turned around to find Xavier staring at her with an unnerved expression.

"Do me one favor, okay?" he asked, hastily unplugging his headphones from the armrest.

Luce sighed. "What?"

"Don't adjust your seat angle or anything until we land, all right? You'd probably end up shutting the whole plane down!"

Ordinarily Luce would have responded angrily to a statement like this, but she said nothing. It had occurred to her that Xavier was probably right.

***

About half an hour later, the "Fasten Seatbelt" signs-fortunately, they had been unaffected by the mishap with the TVs-blinked off, much to the delight of the nineteen-year-old girl seated at the front of the plane.

"All right!" shouted Savannah Hart, jumping up from her seat and throwing her Granbull's Pokѐball onto the carpeted floor of the aisle. The purple canine Pokemon appeared in a flash of light and stretched, yawning.

Savannah tossed it a microphone from a pocket of her jeans. "Come on, we have a lot of Trainers to interview. We'll be landing in half an hour!"

At this the Granbull perked up, and it eagerly ran after the teenage reporter, both of them with one mission: to have a great story landed before the plane did.

***

"Hi! My name is Sevvy Hart and I'm a reporter covering the Pokѐtopia Tournament for Goldenrod Radio. Would you mind answering a few questions for me?"

Alexandria "Alex" De la Roche looked up from the book she was reading, The Legends of Johto, in surprise. She was a short and rather thin girl with a gentle face and shoulder-length black hair who was dressed mainly in a plain black ensemble: a black beret, dark jeans, a black tank top, fingerless gloves and square glasses, as well as a pair of light green sandals. A chain with five Pokeballs on it was attached to her jeans, and she held a young Chinchou in her arms.

Although she was more of a breeder than a Pokemon trainer, Alex had fought in several tournaments before this, and had come into contact with far too many annoying reporters for her liking. Now she was being asked for an interview before even getting there-where would it all end?

She looked Sevvy up and down. Short brown hair, dressed in pink and white, friendly smile-she didn't look so bad. Alex supposed that an interview wouldn't hurt.

"Okay, what did you want to know?" she asked. Sevvy brightened, and the Granbull next to her held out its microphone.

"Oh, just a few quick questions, thanks. First of all, what made you decide to enter the tournament?"

Alex smiled. "Well, I'm a Pokemon breeder by trade-I work with my older brother Isaiah-but I've entered a few tournaments in the past and had fun, and don't think you should underestimate me, either-I might be a Pokemon breeder, but I have a competent team of Pokemon that's been with me for a long time. They're all really excited to be going to the tournament-_aiigh_!"

At this her Chinchou had playfully let out a blast of electricity and zapped her. An acrid, ozone-y smell filled the air, and dissipated in a few seconds to show a frazzled-looking Alex, her glasses askew and her hair fluffed up by the static charge. Sevvy looked startled, but Alex laughed, albeit a little unsteadily.

"You see what I mean? My Chinchou here is sort of a fan of practical jokes, as well. Sadly, I haven't been able to get through to him to stop doing this kind of thing….he's a tougher battler than he looks, though."  
Sevvy grinned. "Could you tell me a bit about your past accomplishments?"

"Well, I've helped Izzy, my brother, run the Day Care for a few years, I placed first in the Hoenn League a while back, entered the Grand Festival in Hoenn and wound up a semifinalist, got the seashell badges from the Orange Islands, and competed in the Johto League."

"Wow, that's impressive!" commented Sevvy, looking genuinely amazed. "No one should underestimate you in this competition, I'm sure! One last question: what was your favorite memory as a Trainer?"

Alex was about to respond when she caught the eye of the passenger sitting next to a dark-haired boy dressed in green. It was a Scizor.

Alex's blood froze as the giant, predatory insect rubbed its claws together, not looking at her. For a few moments she was immobilized, until she heard someone calling her.

"Alex, are you all right?" asked Sevvy. Alex came out of her reverie, shuddered, and touched the small, faint scar below her right eye. Scizor stirred up painful memories for her.

She shook her head, determined to put the incident out of her mind, and turned back to the reporter.

"It was probably at the day care center last year when a Togepi hatched in my hands. It was adorable!"

Sevvy thanked Alex and moved on, her Granbull trailing her.

***

"Hi! My name is Sevvy Hart and I'm a reporter covering the Pokѐtopia Tournament for Goldenrod Radio. Would you mind"-

Savannah's usual opening spiel was cut off by Kane Yaiba, who adopted the flirty expression that had made him infamous and said smoothly, albeit in a ridiculously melodramatic voice, "For you I'd be happy to do anything, my dear. Dredge my deepest past, my darkest histories! They're all yours and I couldn't think of anyone more charming to give them to than you."

Sevvy blushed, confused and a little unnerved. "Well…I….um…"

From the row of seats behind them, a tall, blonde teen dressed in an orange-and-white striped shirt and green scarf leaned forward. "Don't mind Kane, he does this to everyone. I'll admit it's a little creepy, but you get used to it," he drawled. "We were both at the Lilycove Tournament-I'm Markus Pearl."

"Hi, Markus!" said Sevvy enthusiastically, glad of a chance to change the subject. "So, are you all excited for the tournament?"

"Hang on a second," Kane interrupted. "We're starting to descend!"

True to his words, the plane dipped, and all of the Trainers aboard dashed to the windows. Gasps filled the air as they saw the incredible sight before them.

***

Clear, cerulean ocean water rushed past each side of the small, bright white boat as it sped toward Pokѐtopia. Mycroft Williamson sat on the deck, reading the last few pages of The Legends of Johto and sipping a tall glass of Razz Berry lemonade, enjoying the feel of the salt air on his face.

Within a few minutes, Mycroft had finished his book and taken out a sleek laptop computer, emblazoned with the purple flame-like design of the decorations on his suit jacket. He entered an online forum of which he was a member and joined a discussion on advanced Pokemon-training methods.

Suddenly a crash shattered the peaceful air, and the boat's engine abruptly cut off. Mycroft looked up in surprise to see the captain of the ship-by default, as he was the only sailor there-run out on the deck, looking worried.

"We ran straight into a gang of Sharpedo!" the tanned, burly sailor bellowed. "The Bully of the Sea, and they're not in a good mood. We're in for some trouble, all right!" Mycroft looked down into the water and saw that it was already beginning to churn with enraged Sharpedo, who were snapping their razor-sharp teeth with abandon and slamming into the hull of the boat.

"I'll handle this." Mycroft stood up and snatched the Pokѐball that contained his Electivire, Watson, off of his belt, preparing for a fight.

Before he could do anything, though, a bright blue ball of energy crackling with indigo flames streaked down toward the water, apparently from out of nowhere, and exploded beneath the surface, kicking up a huge jet of spray and scattering the shark-like Pokemon everywhere. Mycroft looked up in surprise to see a shiny Togekiss flying overhead, launching more Aura Spheres towards the Sharpedo as he watched. The rest of the Sharpedo swarm quickly gave up and darted off into the underwater darkness, intent on putting as much distance as possible between themselves and the powerful attacks raining down on them.

Mycroft, who thought he'd recognized the Togekiss, turned to find his suspicions confirmed. Without his noticing it, another boat had pulled up alongside his own. Standing on the deck was the Togekiss' Trainer: a tall, pretty girl with long brown hair in a light blue headband, which matched the rest of her outfit. She wore a confident expression.

"Good job, White," said Allesandra Cesarini-known to her friends as Alex-recalling her Pokemon with a perky grin. "We left those pesky Sharpedo in our dust, didn't we?"

"Hello, Alex," called Mycroft. The girl turned, noticing him for the first time.

"Oh, hey! Mycroft! Good to see you again!" Alex's boat had stopped as well, and now she vaulted over the railing, landing neatly on the deck of Mycroft's boat. The two shook hands.

"So, Mycroft-hey, can I call you Mike?"

Mycroft winced, a single bead of sweat dropping from his face. "Let's just go with a 'no' on that one." This had, he remembered, not been the first time Alex had tried to give someone a nickname with disastrous results.

Alex interrupted him. "Hang on, the Sharpedo are coming back!"

"I've got this one." Mycroft turned to the spot where the shark Pokemon were making a somewhat halfhearted second attack on the two boats and released his Electivire. Watson appeared in a blaze of light and launched an unbelievably powerful blast of electricity from its two tails. The Sharpedo, all of them now very fried, made a quick exit. Mycroft gave his Pokemon a congratulatory pat on the back and recalled it.

Alex, meanwhile, was unfazed.

"So anyway, you're entering the tournament in Pokѐtopia too?" she continued.

"I am indeed." Mycroft returned to his deck chair and picked up his neglected glass of lemonade, motioning for Alex to join him. "I received my invitation last week, as a matter of fact. Although the Lilycove Tournament wouldn't normally seem to encourage me to enter another competition anytime soon"-Alex, who had spent two weeks of the tournament trapped in a time machine, nodded feelingly-"But I've been to Pokѐtopia often before-incredible place, really-many of my old friends and rivals will be attending, and besides"-he indicated his outfit, which was still crusted with salt and sand from his Lugia encounter-"my tailor is in Pokѐtopia, and it goes without saying that I could use a new suit."

Alex nodded. "I heard that a bunch of our old friends from Lilycove are going to be there-not my old battle partner, thank goodness"-

"But you two seemed to be getting on so well together," Mycroft commented, with a half smile.

Alex laughed. "I'm not sure if that's what you'd call it. By the way, I never apologized for beating you in that tag battle…"

"It was nothing, you shouldn't blame yourself," said Mycroft, waving off the apology airily. "I'll admit that I don't look forward to seeing the giant Pachirisu float at Main Street Colosseum, though. So, anyway, I presume that Markus will be going as well, since you are?"

Alex colored slightly at the mention of her boyfriend. "He will be-he's flying in. The jet is supposed to get to Pokѐtopia right when we do."

"On that note, would yeh get back 'ere so's we can get goin' already?" the captain of Alex's boat interrupted. "I ain't gettin' any younger just sittin' 'ere waitin' for yeh!"

"Sorry, be right there." Alex turned back to Mycroft. "I'll see you at the tournament, then!"

Mycroft nodded and waved as Alex jumped back onto her boat and it sped away. He turned around to find his own captain standing in the doorway, tapping a foot on the deck.

"I do hope you're paying me by the hour," he said.

Mycroft laughed. "I suppose the little conversational pleasantries do get in the way of our getting there, don't they? My apologies. I'll reimburse you for your trouble. Now, shall we proceed?"

The man merely nodded and disappeared back onto the bridge. Within a few seconds, the boat sputtered to life and sped off.

A few minutes later, Pokѐtopia appeared on the horizon just as a beautiful sunset was beginning to color the sky and the earliest stars appear in the region where the brilliant orange clouds melted into the darkness of the approaching night. Mycroft couldn't resist a gasp-no matter how many times he'd seen it, the waterfront of Pokѐtopia was always breathtaking. Quickly, he released all of his Pokemon together and the whole team stood on the deck as the boat sailed into the harbor.

Mycroft noticed a jet flying overhead-the rest of the contestants were arriving. This tournament already looked like it was shaping up to be more exciting than he could possibly have imagined.

***

On the jet, meanwhile, everyone was still crowded around the windows, taking in the dazzling sight of the quickly approaching Pokѐtopia skyline. Searchlights cut through the air, helicopters buzzed past, and countless lights twinkled from the vast city, but what stood out more than anything were the dazzling Pokemon towers that soared above the water. Three adjacent buildings were designed to look like Turtwig, Chimchar, and Piplup. A gigantic, lit-up Toxicroak statue held an entire office building in one claw. A Dusclops building glittered with dazzling points of light from its many windows, its one red eye seeming to gaze up at the plane. And a Lickilicky stuck out its tongue, forming an escalator that led to the most magnificent building of all-a gigantic spire topped with the Pokѐtopia logo of a winged "P."

Everyone gasped, oohed, and ahhed. It was just too much to take in. As if on cue, guitar chords rocketed onto the plane's audio system, followed by the famous voice of Pokѐtopia's battle announcer.

_**"Welcome to the land of awe-inspiring sights, the red-hot passion of battle and challenges unlike any you've ever faced before! This…is Pokѐtopia!"**_

Xavier raised an eyebrow, grinning. "Just your regular old backwoods tournament spot, eh?"

But even he couldn't maintain his sarcastic façade for long. "Oh, this is just too cool!"

The plane descended in a graceful arc and touched down right in front of the skyline. The passengers could see a huge cruise ship beginning to disgorge its inhabitants and countless individual boats and water Pokemon bearing their trainers to the island. The heroes had gathered.

***

Mycroft milled around the dock area with the thousands of other Trainers who had recently disembarked, calling out a greeting for the occasional appearance of a previous acquaintance. He had watched Alex and Markus' joyful reunion with amusement a few minutes ago. Now the only person he had yet to see was…

A tan, sandy-haired Trainer in a light brown T-shirt, black ski cap, and blue-and-white patterned pants ran up to him. "Hey! Mycroft!"

"Maecenas-good to see you again," said Mycroft, shaking the hand of his old traveling companion. "You're looking well."

The two chatted for a while, each catching up on what the other had been doing lately, and slowly moved toward the Lickilicky Escalator with the rest of the Trainers.

"I must say I've always thought that it was a little disgusting getting into Pokѐtopia this way-it's like getting swallowed," commented Maecenas with a shudder. "Still, I guess—hang on, something isn't right here."

"What"-Mycroft suddenly saw it too: instead of the escalator itself, they were looking at an actual Lickilicky, which had positioned itself right in front of their view of its larger counterpart.

"AAAAGH!" the two cried together as the Pokemon extended its gigantic tongue and gave them a lick of greeting, dousing both of them in saliva.

Mycroft turned, already knowing what he would see: a blonde Trainer dressed in a train wreck of bright, clashing colors, giving him a goofy grin.

"Hello, Ferk," he said warily.

**Hey all, it's Maecenas here! Well, that was a long chapter. Hope you're all still awake. I considered splitting it into two parts, but there is the unifying theme of all the Trainers' journey to Pokѐtopia. Consider it my way of making up for the long time between uploads. The infamous banquet scene will be next, and all characters I've received will get at least a cameo!**

**Here are my character credits:**

**Mycroft and Maecenas-Yours Truly**

**Luce and **

**Alex (De La Roche)-nellchan0013**

**Xavier-LastPrelude**

**Alex (Cesarini) and Markus-Legendary Fairy**

**Kane-KK the Prophet**

**Ferk-SilentlySnowing**

**Also thanks to ****suvi-sisko** **or JellyBrain, since I made a vague reference to Zailia (I didn't want to push it any more).**

**Thanks to all my readers and reviewers as usual. Oh, I almost forgot to mention, there's going to be a slight change of rules. In order to comply with the FanFiction administration, I would prefer for OC's to be submitted in the future by PM exclusively. Thanks.**

**I get the feeling no one really wants to read Maecenas' full bio right now-and I haven't written it yet anyway-so I'll do that later.**

**Maecenas out.**


	4. Chapter 4: Food and Fight

**Disclaimer: Same as before. Own nothing save Maecenas and Mycroft. And now, I give you: Chapter Four: Food and Fight.**

Ferk Ramalo sprawled in a comfortable armchair in the lobby of Pokѐtopia Tower, chatting with Maecenas and Mycroft as the three of them waited for the next group of Trainers to be called up to the front desk to register. Mycroft had explained to Maecenas who Ferk was-they had met during the Lilycove Tournament when Ferk, who'd been poisoned by studying a shiny Nidorino a bit too closely, had collapsed at Mycroft's doorstep; Mycroft had ended up with no choice but to take him in and bring him back to health.

"So, I presume you're still conducting your research into unusual Pokemon, correct?" asked Mycroft, who was fighting the urge to jump up and begin madly scrubbing his suit to remove the last traces of Lickilicky saliva. He contented himself with a faint shudder, and mentally congratulated himself on keeping his cool.

"You bet!" replied Ferk enthusiastically. "Four hundred and sixty-seven Shiny Pokemon sightings so far and counting! I'm still branching out, though-I tried my hand at Pokemon breeding when I was in Sinnoh a while back. I try to study a little of everything, be a real renaissance man…"

"Hang on, your last name isn't Ramalo, is it?" asked Maecenas, as if suddenly remembering something. "There was a name added to the Day Care Association's blacklist last year--"

Mycroft elbowed him. "Well, in any case it's excellent that you were able to join us for the tournament."

"It's gonna be a blast." With his trademark carefree grin, Ferk pulled a coin out of his pocket, tossed it into the air, and hit it a backhand in the general direction of the fountain of the corner of the room. It sailed clear of the fountain and collided with Jenina Kuze of Viridian City, who shot Ferk an annoyed glare.

He remained, as usual, oblivious. "So, what else have the two of you been up to lately?"

Since Maecenas and Mycroft had been discussing exactly that with Ferk for the past ten minutes, both of them were at a loss for words.

"Here's something I haven't mentioned before," Maecenas said after a few seconds. "I have a new Pokemon on my team for this tournament."

Mycroft frowned. "Really? Your team is such a close-knit little group-I'm surprised that you'd change it."

"It's not a permanent change," Maecenas explained. "You know that some Legendary Pokemon are banned for this tournament, right? I entered Manaphy with no problem"-

"But not Orion?" Mycroft finished for him, grinning. He couldn't imagine that Maecenas would have been able to get his Deoxys, which he'd obtained through an unlikely chain of mysterious circumstances the previous year, through security.

"That's right. So I got one of my friends to trade me a replacement." Jumping up, Maecenas snatched a Pokѐball off of his belt and flung it onto the floor of the lobby. "_Progreidi_, Ludicolo!"

The pineapple-shaped Pokemon burst form the Pokѐball and did an energetic twirl on the spot, then straightened its lily-pad sombrero and regarded the three Trainers cheerfully.

"Whoa, a Ludicolo! That's awesome, man!" commented Ferk. "I've always wanted to study that strange energy they always get when music is playing…"

"It's an excellent-looking Pokemon," said Mycroft approvingly. "You should do fine using it."

At this point, the conversation of the three Trainers was interrupted. "At this point," the receptionist, Ms. Anna, called, "Would all remaining Trainers not yet registered for the tournament please form a line at the front desk? Thank you."

Maecenas quickly recalled his Ludicolo and joined the line with the rest of the Trainers who had been waiting in the lobby, including Kane, Markus, Jenina, and a rather short boy with long, dark hair and an intense expression who'd identified himself as Varacei Algerand. As Maecenas grabbed his Trainer ID out of one of his many shirt pockets, a grin spread across his face. The sooner he was registered, the sooner the battles could begin!

***

Xavier Omnik was pleasantly surprised to find himself at the front of the line. He'd be able to get a good seat for the banquet, then, he mused-or at least a better seat than the other thirteen or so Trainers in line with him, who were the last out of hundreds to register, he corrected himself. Oh well. He wasn't about to let trivial concerns like that get in his way for long.

Ms. Anna, a young lady with short blonde hair who was dressed in a turquoise jacket-and-beret outfit, as well as a microphone headset (Xavier wondered for a while how you could combine that with a music player, then snapped himself back to attention)-smiled warmly at him.

"Welcome to Pokѐtopia! You're Xavier Omnik, correct? I'll just need to see your Trainer ID for a second, and then you'll be signed in and you can go to the opening banquet."

Xavier nodded, and after fumbling around for a while produced his Trainer ID with a shudder-he still hated how the photo had turned out-and slid it onto the counter. Ms. Anna swiped it through a scanning machine, and Xavier's photo and several rows of typed information appeared on the wall-length screen behind her-to Xavier's dismay, as his dreadful photo was now being broadcast to everyone in the room.

"Fifteen years old, born in Mossdeep City, currently with eighteen Badges and one Contest ribbon, team of Milotic, Umbreon, Gallade, Ninjask, Flygon and Scizor. Is that correct?"

Xavier nodded again. "Then you're all set!" said Ms. Anna brightly. "Thank you, and I hope you have a great time here in Pokѐtopia! She bowed.

After pausing to ruffle the fur of the stuffed Pikachu mascot on the desk for good luck, Xavier switched a quick, upbeat song onto his radio-earning his usual quota of weird looks from the other Trainers-and dashed out the door, the chandeliers overhead blazing past him, into the cool night air of the Pokѐtopia city proper. He was starving, and he had an opening banquet to attend.

***

The pathway behind Pokѐtopia tower was lined with lampposts and planters full of exotic shrubbery, and was currently filled with the sounds of conversation from the tournament contestants. Kane Yaiba strode through the masses of Trainers towards the place where he'd been told the banquet would be being held. Since his arrival, he'd flirted with fourteen different girls, and he was in an excellent mood. He whistled an airy tune as he walked along, swinging his arms in time.

Suddenly, a movement at the edges of his vision caught his attention. He looked behind him, trying to see what it was that he'd noticed. It was hard to tell with all of the brightly glowing lights around him, but it looked like someone was standing on the roof of one of the many skyscrapers around him.

Kane did a double take. Wait, _what?_

Looking more closely, Kane found that, as improbable as it seemed, he had been right. Whoever it was stared out over the city for a moment, then jumped adroitly onto the fire escape and began to descend, her dark blue hair fluttering in the evening breeze.

Luce Delaray hit the ground lightly and walked briskly away, not looking at Kane as she passed him.

This was all most interesting, Kane mused to himself. He would be sure to talk to this girl at the banquet.

***

Maecenas and Mycroft strolled along the tree-lined avenue, chatting-an extremely hungry Ferk had dashed off for the banquet as soon as he had registered-and enjoying the tantalizing smells of delicious food that were already beginning to waft over to them on the breeze. Maecenas had released his Lucario to walk alongside him, and Thalia was again perched on Mycroft's shoulder.

Alex De la Roche brushed by them, looking a bit frustrated, and Maecenas suddenly lost track of whatever it was he'd been saying. The dark tan of his face slowly deepened into a bright red, and his breathing turned somewhat unsteady.

Clearing his throat and seeming to get control of himself again after almost a minute had elapsed, he turned first to Lucario and then to Thalia. "Neither of you was messing with my emotions again, were you?"

Lucario shrugged, and Thalia shook its head. Both of them were grinning, although Lucario was trying to hide it out of deference to his Trainer and old friend.

Maecenas groaned. "I was afraid of that." Suddenly, Alex turned around and headed back toward him.

Maecenas started looking nervous again. "Oh, if it isn't Kane Yaiba! Greetings!" said Mycroft abruptly, in a much louder tone of voice than usual, and walked quickly off.

Alex walked up to Maecenas and said apologetically, "Excuse me-I'm sorry to ask favors of a stranger, but my Chinchou got away from me again, and I know that Lucario can sense the presence of Pokemon. Do you think he could find Chinchou for me?"

Maecenas swallowed, his face again brick red, and after stuttering for a few moments said hastily, "Umm…sure! Lucario, you know what to do, right?"

The Aura Pokemon nodded and closed its eyes, emitting a pulse of light blue energy. It paused for a moment and frowned, then dashed off into the crowd, dodging the groups of Trainers with expert ease. A moment later it returned, with Chinchou held in its arms. The young Electric Pokemon waved merrily at its Trainer.

"Chinchou, how many times have I told you not to wander off like this?" said Alex exasperatedly, recalling the Pokemon quickly and clipping its Pokѐball to the chain attached to her belt. "Thanks for helping me out," she told Maecenas, shaking his hand gratefully. "I'm sure we'll see each other again soon-I'm Alexandria De la Roche, but you can call me Alex."

"Name's Maecenas," the other muttered bashfully, then dashed off. Alex looked a bit startled. Lucario, who had remained behind, rolled his eyes in a that's-the-way-it-goes kind of way, then followed his Trainer.

Maecenas, replaying his encounter with Alex a million times in his head, walked over to a fountain and began splashing his face with water. Had he imagined it, or had she looked a bit nervous too when she was talking to him?

Shaking his head, he continued his journey to the site of the banquet. There was nothing like a gigantic pizza to help you when the world appeared to have turned upside down.

***

Yet more gasps of amazement filled the air as everyone approached the site of the banquet. Six long tables covered with a white silk tablecloth were laid end-to-end, with long, thin benches providing the seating. Many Trainers were already seated. String quartets were placed strategically on raised platforms around them, playing ambient music. The whole thing was in the open air beneath the star-strewn night sky, in a tree-lined courtyard. Strings of lanterns hung above the tables, adding to the magical feel of the entire arrangement. However, the Trainers' attention was held solely by the mountains of delicious food heaped onto the length of the table. Whenever someone new arrived and sat down, one of the tuxedoed waiters hovering around the premises would whisk off to bring them whatever favorite food they'd mentioned in their invitation, but all of the remaining space was taken up by a sort of general buffet of food freely available to anyone – mounds of burgers, flame-grilled and dripping with cheese and crispy strips of bacon, huge platters of artisanal cheeses, vast bowls of fresh, green salad, huge plates of juicy, perfectly seasoned steak, gigantic pizzas bristling with every topping imaginable, baskets of bread, bowls of delicious-looking pasta – it was all too much to take in. It was hard to think of anything that wasn't present on that table somewhere.

Instantly in his element in the formal surroundings, Mycroft sat down near Ferk and Maecenas, glanced approvingly at his New Bark Strip Steak-marinated in a Haban Berry-based sauce that had gained much favor with chefs lately due to its intense bittersweet flavor and crusted with Parmesan flakes-and picked up a wine list, quickly deciding on a bottle of Pinot Dusknoir.

"I would have gone with the vintage Howlin' Loudred, myself," commented Ferk, gratefully receiving his platter of chocolate-fried crickets and leaning back to revel in the disgusted looks it was receiving.

Maecenas pulled a cheesy slice from his gigantic pizza, which was topped with basil, garlic slices and olive oil. "Now, this is more like it!"

Next to him, a small commotion occurred as Mycroft's Whiscash, the Welzz, burst from its Pokѐball and attempted, as usual, to eat his top hat.

"All right, all right, enough!" the tall Trainer complained, prying his Pokemon off and tossing it a baguette, which it swallowed in one bite. "I'll feed you later!"

"Welzz's appetite still giving you problems, then?" asked Maecenas, smiling, as Mycroft recalled the Pokemon hurriedly. "You should just feed it your whole suit after you get the new one."

Down the length of the table, everyone was enjoying the meal. Jenina Kuze, Candice Isra, Love Nami, Mimi Darius and several other girls were all talking excitedly together, barely noticing their meals. Megan had joined Alex and Markus, and all of them were talking and laughing like old times, sharing Megan's plate of bacon cheeseburgers. Xavier had pulled everything within a four-foot radius of himself closer to him, and was wolfing it all down ravenously. Celeste Skye and Selphy Renton were both chatting animatedly, trying with little success to involve the somewhat aloof Broly Banes in their conversation. A small cadre of more coldhearted, individual Trainers sat at one end, paying attention only to the food and not talking to one another.

"What is it about these tournaments that attracts them?" Ferk wondered.

Mycroft shrugged. "I suppose spending weeks in the wilderness with nothing but your wits and your Pokemon can get to you after a while." They had been joined by an enigmatic fellow who identified himself only as Media, and after this exchange Mycroft returned to comparing notes on steak with him.

On the other end of the table from them were Alex, Sevvy (although she kept popping up from her seat and dashing off to do a few quick interviews) Jojo Jones-Mycroft remembered her causing a bit of havoc at the Lilycove Tournament- and Maikeru Tapang, a tall, dark-haired Trainer who was enjoying a spicy plate of curry (Alex was studiously avoiding all of the spicy food that he and Jojo had piled up around themselves). Lastly, at the end of the table, was Kane, who was attempting to make small talk with Luce, who was concentrating on her salad and making a point of ignoring him.

The next several hours passed by in a bliss of culinary perfection. All too soon, it seemed, most people were down to after-dinner coffee and conversation.

Xavier, who had been talking strategy with Maecenas-a friendship was quickly developing between the two very similar Trainers-looked up at the sound of raised voices, which had been escalating over the past few moments. "Just what is going on over there?"

Mycroft looked over to see Luce and Kane in a fierce argument. Kane was looking offended, and angry tears danced in Luce's eyes, her hair flying all over her face."I suppose it's those two. Kane's insufferable flirting has given rise to more than a few rocky situations…I suppose I'm left to go break it up."

He was interrupted by a flash of light from the end of the table and Luce's voice shouting, "Go, Destructor!"

An enormous, ferocious-looking Rhyperior exploded from the ball, its eyes glowing with malice. It slammed its muscular, granite arms together, slammed its clubbed tail onto the ground with enough force to crack the cement and let out a bellowing roar. A wineglass shattered somewhere.

"Is it live?" asked Maecenas innocently. Mycroft shot him a this-isn't-the-time-for-that look.

The string quartet players moved back nervously, although one cello player released a Kricketune and Scyther and looked like he was ready to join in any battle that started. Many of the Trainers were jumping to their feet and rushing towards Luce and Kane. Unfortunately, it was Ferk who arrived first.

"Now, let's not turn this into a confrontation…" he warned pointlessly, grabbing one of his Pokѐballs. Luce whirled on him, blinded by rage.

"Use Rock Wrecker!" she shrieked at the Rhyperior. As there were no boulders around for Destructor to launch in the attack, it was confused for a moment, then grabbed a bowl of mangosteens and loaded them into its arm cannons.

Within seconds, fruit was flying. Ferk dashed into the fray and was immediately hit with one, collapsing to the ground and dropping the Pokѐball he'd been holding, which released his Probopass, which promptly fell on him. All heck then naturally broke loose.

"I'm not going to stand for this!" shouted Kane, now just as red-faced as Luce, releasing his Empoleon. "Hydro Cannon!"

A powerful jet of water burst from the Penguin Pokémon's mouth and hit the Rhyperior dead-on. With a roar, it toppled backwards and began to skid down the length of the banquet table, plowing food out of the way with its bulk.

Jojo and Maecenas both pointed with alarm towards an untouched plate of cheeses directly in the Pokémon's path. "We've got to save them!"

Mycroft leapt into action. "Thalia, take over!" He threw the Quick Ball, which expanded in a blur into his Mesprit. The Pokemon surveyed the situation with alarm.

"Iron Tail!" Mycroft commanded smoothly. Thalia's twin jewel-studded tails turned to polished metal, which reflected the glint of the candlelight brightly, and, turning around, it slammed them with tremendous force into the Rhyperior, which was approaching like a freight train.

The enormous Rock-type crashed to the ground unconscious, inches from the cheese plate. Luce recalled it to its Pokѐball, looking concerned.

Maecenas sighed with relief, helping himself to a piece of toasted Mozzarella. "That was a close one."

Mycroft had turned angrily to Luce and Kane. "All right, you two, what exactly was going on there?"

"He was hitting on me!" said Luce angrily, pointing an accusing finger at Kane.

Kane, who was extricating himself with difficulty from a pile of wreckage, groaned, "I prefer to think of it as innocent flirting…"

Mycroft scowled. "Well, this is neither the time nor the place for this. You'd better separate."

Nodding, the two moved to opposite ends of the table and continued eating, smoldering at each other.

Alex turned nervously to Sevvy. "It's not always going to be this crazy around here, is it?"

"I hope not," said Sevvy with a laugh. "Of course, it was still a great dinner until those two psychos started fighting. At least most of the food was gone."

Ferk emerged from under the table, his face bright orange from the mangosteen juice. "That…was…AWESOME! I should have my food shot at me all the time!"

Luckily, the rest of the banquet passed by much more peacefully, with the exception of a rather messy pizza-eating contest between Maecenas, Xavier and Megan (who didn't want to be outdone at anything) over the leftovers. Soon, everyone had finished.

A bell tone sounded, and a string of lights lit up to the left of the table, illuminating a pathway. The Pokѐtopia announcer's voice broke in, apparently over an intercom: "Will all Trainers now proceed to the area indicated, where the tournament's opening ceremony will be taking place?"

Talking excitedly among themselves, the contestants followed the pathway through a grove of trees and emerged to find themselves in a large open space in the middle of the city, with one deserted-looking office building in the center. The announcer himself, looking flamboyant in a bright orange suit and nicely clashing tie, was waiting for them with a very familiar face standing beside him.

"May I introduce our special guest…_ Tower Tycoon Palmer!"_

_***_

**What do you know- a cliffhanger ending! Obviously I won't say much about the upcoming scene, except to direct you to a few important details of the invitation in the first chapter and to mention that this was the first scene I ever had in mind for this story. It's going to be mightily impressive, I believe.**

**Well, the much-anticipated banquet scene has now taken place! I hope everyone's satisfied with it. I apologize for using Mycroft and Maecenas so much-I'm just used to them, since they're my characters. Besides, I could really use a few more male characters. Hint hint. **

**A bit of Maecenas/Alex romance going on there! What do you think of that one? It'll be developing more as the story goes on.**

**I'd like to start a poll of sorts, asking for everyone's favorite character so far (as K. Fang did in the Lilycove Tournament). You can each vote for two, to make the decision a bit easier. My two favorites thus far-besides my own-are probably Xavier and Alex, but all of my OCs are great. You guys all rock for submitting them!**

**All right, character credits…I did mention everyone in this chapter, although The Triumvirate of Rei's Demetri Koslov and CyberWolf101's Jason Jay Brown weren't mentioned by name. Sorry about that, you two, they'll both have roles to play, trust me.**

**Mycroft and Maecenas-Yours Truly **

**Luce and (for some reason that didn't show up last chapter. I typed it…Apologies, Fang.)**

**Alex-nellchan0013**

**Alex and Markus-Legendary Fairy**

**Ferk-SilentlySnowing (I really had some fun with him this chapter, didn't I?)**

**Kane-KK the Prophet**

**Jenina-mhadz0021**

**Media-MediaMessiah**

**Varacei-Startix-Master of the NoLess (is he really only four feet tall, or was that a typo? Oh, and you're Startix from now on here. Definitely).**

**Candice-PokeStarr**

**Megan-Fire Drastar**

**Love-apapa155**

**Mimi-PokemonJoe1**

**Teal-thebeats**

**Celeste-Nicolette7**

**Jojo-Flaaffy (her bio is on Flaaffy's website, for those who wish to see it)**

**Maikeru-Onyxshade7**

**Broly-Clarosoo**

**Selphy and Cyan-DevoTheMadCashCow/Hellokittyismybestfriend (whichever, there was a bit of account confusion. No offense to either, I hope?)**

**Phew…okay, I think that's everyone. I might have another all-characters chapter like this in the future, but for now I need time to recover.**

**Thanks again to all my loyal readers! I welcome your comments and feedback.**

**Maecenas's bio is below for those interested.**

**Maecenas out.**

Name: Maecenas Augustus Octavian

Age: 15

Hometown: Unknown, but grew up in Celestic Town, Sinnoh

Occupation: Trainer, explorer, adventurer

Favorite Food: Anything and everything Italian, particularly large, cheese-laden pasta bakes.

Appearance: About 5'11" to 6'1" and 175 lbs., somewhat muscular. Very deeply tanned, he travels enough for this to be permanent. Long, sandy hair and olive-green eyes. Always wears the following items, all from Battle Revolution:

Summer Hat B (a black ski-type cap with a white Pokѐball symbol on each side)

Expedition T-Shirt (sturdily made brown t-shirt with lots of pockets, handy for the frequent traveler)

Emerald Brooch (a badge commemorating his many visits to his favorite region of Hoenn, a large emerald worn on the right breast pocket of his t-shirt)

Ocean Pants (white pants with a blue wave design, which combine with the Expedition T-Shirt to give Maecenas something of a land-and-sea appearance.)

He also wears a heavy traveling bag filled with useful supplies (and snacks) and metallic green fingerless gloves.

Back History: Maecenas was raised in sun-drenched Celestic Town, where he gained a deep appreciation for myths and Legendary Pokemon. Upon his tenth birthday he traveled to Twinleaf Town to begin his Pokemon journey, starting with a Turtwig. His was the typical Trainer's story of exciting adventure, and his trip through Sinnoh was unforgettable. He entered a tournament for the first time before even getting his third badge, but his ragtag team of underevolved Pokemon somehow managed to triumph over several far more experienced Trainers before he lost in the middle rounds. It was here that he received his Honchkrow in a trade. He finished his Sinnoh journey with a flourish after getting mixed up for a while in the fight against Team Galactic, defeating the Sinnoh Elite Four with honors. Soon after this – allowing him some time for exploration of the islands around Sinnoh – he left for Pokѐtopia for the first time. There he met Mycroft, and the two struck upon unlikely friendship. They hunted Thalia through Sinnoh cooperatively, and then spent some time touring Hoenn, which Maecenas fell in love with instantly. After this they parted ways for a while, and Maecenas' explorations continued.

Personality: Maecenas is enthusiastic and friendly, and always looking for a challenge. He has a good knowledge of Pokemon in general, although his battle strategy usually runs along the lines of "attack like crazy and see what happens." He's loyal to his friends, although romantically he's usually a bit wrong-footed. He tends to lapse into Latin, which he speaks fluently, when he's angry or in a tight corner of battle. He's your typical hero type in some ways, and it's hard to keep him down for long.

Single or Double Battle: His team was designed for singles and that's what he'll be doing here, but he's remarkably good at shoehorning them into Double Battle strategies.

Skills and Talents: Athletic and good at mountaineering and spelunking, good knowledge of Pokemon myths and legends, adept explorer, speaks fluent Latin, and can cut a mean move on the dance floor. Oh, and he can eat an entire extra-large pizza in two minutes and thirty-seven seconds.

Accomplishments: All badges of Sinnoh and defeated Sinnoh Elite Four and Champion, captured a Deoxys, twice faced Tower Tycoon Palmer and narrowly lost each time, mainly due to Palmer's ace card, Milotic. Has Castle, Factory and Hall prints from the Sinnoh Battle Frontier, has begun to challenge Hoenn and currently has Flannery and Winona's badges, as well as a Luck Symbol from the Hoenn Battle Frontier.

Pokemon:

Lucario (male): Maecenas' team champion and trustiest companion, received as a baby Riolu from Riley. Maecenas immediately took it to Rt. 211 and trained it against full-grown Machoke, which has made it unbelievably tough. He and Maecenas are great friends, and like him, Lucario is all about pure power. Knows Dragon Pulse, Aura Sphere, Close Combat, Extremespeed, etc.

Distinguishing features: right hand spike splits into a smaller side spur, making it look jagged. Has Pokѐball seal with a pattern of stars and blue flames.

TerraFirma the Torterra (male): Maecenas' starter Pokemon. The two have been through many adventures together, which culminated in Torterra's taking a full-power Flare Blitz from an Infernape and surviving it comfortably, then going on to defeat the Infernape, in a battle before his Elite Four challenge. Knows Crunch, Earthquake, Wood Hammer, Giga Drain, Stone Edge, Superpower, Leaf Storm, etc.

Distinguishing features: Perhaps a bit larger than most Torterra. Pokѐball seal has a shower of autumn leaves.

Paleo the Bastiodon (male): Maecenas knew he wanted a Bastiodon and headed underground, not emerging until he'd dug up a skull fossil. Paleo was the first Pokemon Maecenas attempted more strategic training methods on. Brutal at attack and defense, it once defeated an Articuno, Zapdos and Moltres three-on-one. Knows Stone Edge, Earthquake, Iron Head, Return, Protect, Metal Burst, etc.

Distinguishing features: None.

Manaphy (genderless): Maecenas received a Manaphy egg through a friend in Fiore (who, it later turned out, also knew Mycroft) and it hatched when he first reached Hearthome City. It's been a powerhouse from its infancy, and was the main reason Maecenas got as far as he did in his first tournament. Manaphy is perky, friendly and on especially good terms with Lucario. Knows Tail Glow, Surf, Blizzard, Grass Knot, Dive, etc.

Distinguishing features: The red jewel on its chest is larger than average. Has a Pokѐball seal pattern of bubbles (like a makeshift Dive Ball).

Honchkrow (female): Honchkrow was received in a trade at the first tournament Maecenas entered. After he gained its trust Honchkrow, or "The Boss" as it's affectionately known, was widely accepted into the family of the team. She serves as a courier-transporting Maecenas across the continent on command-but is also one of the team's most powerful strikers. It has a Razor Claw equipped, which makes it the perfect "special circumstances" operative to land a lucky, finishing critical hit. It's still true to its mob-boss nature, and Maecenas merely has to give it a mission and watch that mission be carried out. It's even taken out Jolteon in the past.

Distinguishing Features: Has a red ribbon tied around its "hat," with the ends flowing out behind it. This accentuates the look of its red tail and wing feathers.

Orion the Deoxys: Received under mysterious circumstances, a very fierce Pokemon, but has warmed up to Maecenas over time (it's hard for any Pokemon not to). Its presence is intimidating to other trainers, in the "oh my gosh, that trainer has a Legendary!" sense. It's the powerhouse of the team, and knows many attacks such as SolarBeam, Ice Beam, Focus Blast, etc.

Favorite Memory as a Trainer: A tossup between receiving Manaphy's egg, defeating the Elite Four, and his dramatic yacht-board battle with Mycroft last year. His Lucario helped him out of a tough spot to victory.

Also, a few more details about Mycroft that I forgot: Gawain, his Gallade, has a small, white scar on its helmet, a souvenir from its battle with Maecenas' Lucario. His parents, the Williamsons, are aging, but still very active in Hoenn high society, and he has a fourteen-year-old sister, Charity Williamson.


	5. Chapter 5: Explosive Beginnings

**Disclaimer: in this and the entirety of this story, I will make no claim to own the franchise of Pokemon in any way, shape, or form-this is merely a respectful fan fiction. Nintendo and Game Freak completely own Pokemon. Neither do I own the OC's used throughout the story, all of which belong to their respective authors. However, I do own the characters of Maecenas and Mycroft, neither of which may be used without my permission. And now that that's over and done with…**

Screams of adulation from the thousands of Trainers gathered around filled the night air and camera flashes erupted from all sides like a sudden lightning storm as Palmer raised one hand and grinned in acknowledgement. There was no doubt that it was him, all right – the windswept blond hair, tanned and weathered face, and intense, fiery eyes could only belong to the heroic leader of Sinnoh's Battle Frontier. Those among the crowd who had battled him in the past respected him as a master of battle strategy with a nearly invincible team, while the others know him as the celebrity trainer whose battles always racked up top ratings on Sinnoh TV.

Palmer twirled around and struck a dynamic pose, the ends of his long, dark green coat flowing out behind him and the lights of Pokѐtopia arching dazzlingly above him.

"He's looking well," said Maecenas with amusement. "All that youthful energy he unleashed on my team so painfully is still there, all right."

Next to him, Mycroft gritted his teeth in irritation. Maecenas had battled the Tower Tycoon twice, which was one of the few accomplishments he had that Mycroft did not.

He planned to say something defensive in response, but at that moment Palmer took the microphone from the announcer, who strode off to the sidelines, and began his speech.

"Welcome to all of you!" his voice boomed out over the assembled masses. "Welcome to Pokѐtopia! This is an awesome place – really awesome – and I'm sure that all of you here are looking forward to the tournament. Believe me, so am I, and I'll make an effort to watch as many of your battles as I can.

"Now, as some of you may know, this tournament is being held to commemorate the construction of a new stadium in Pokѐtopia. We're currently at the site where that stadium will be built." At this point Palmer uncovered an easel standing next to him, on which was an artistic depiction of a huge, glass-roofed battle dome. "The office building beside me"--he waved a hand in indication –"has been deserted for a few months, and it will soon be demolished and construction will begin. I was asked here to combine the tournament's opening ceremony with a groundbreaking for the new stadium. So, without any further ado, let's get it under way."

Striking another pose, Palmer threw two Pokѐballs into the air. "Regigigas, Dragonite, on stage!"

Palmer's two Pokemon appeared in twin blazes of light and stood at attention in front of him. Gasps, shrieks and gradually, another round of applause filled the air – along with a renewed flurry of camera flashes – at the sight of the Legendary Pokemon.

Alex de la Roche, who was standing in the front row, couldn't believe her eyes. She had always loved Pokemon myths and legends more than almost anything, and here she was now looking at an actual Regigigas! Its white-and-gold muscular body, powerful, clawed arms, intricate markings, and the bushes growing from its shoulders and feet were all like those she'd seen pictured, but the Pokemon was just so much more amazing in person. It seemed to exude an aura of astonishing power.

"It's incredible," she breathed, then noticed that she and Maecenas, who was standing maybe five feet away from her, had been speaking in unison. Both of them colored slightly, and Alex hurriedly turned away to snap some more photos.

On a command from Palmer, the Regigigas stomped slowly over to the office building, its heavy footsteps shaking the ground and kicking up clouds of dust. It placed both gigantic hands against the building and, with a mechanical-sounding roar, lifted the whole thing into the air. Even more surprised shouts rang out from the crowd. It seemed unbelievable, but there it was right before their eyes: the Pokemon in front of them had just ripped an entire skyscraper clean out of its foundations by its own power. Suddenly the old legend about Regigigas towing the continents with rope seemed a bit less unbelievable. However, even this was nothing compared to what they would see next.

Regigigas shifted the building onto its shoulders amidst a rain of rubble and broken glass and stood immobile in that position for a moment, not even showing any signs of strain from its tremendous burden.

"Now, go!" roared Palmer. The dot patterns on Regigigas' "face" glowed with a golden light, and in one incredible movement it hurled the entire building into the air. At the same time, Palmer's Dragonite, which had gone relatively unnoticed next to its more spectacular companion, took to the skies, racing along with the building as it ascended like some gigantic rocket.

As the skyscraper reached its maximum height, the Dragonite reared back and spat a fireball at it, which was joined by a Hyper Beam fired from below by the Regigigas. Time seemed to slow down as both converged on the airborne building and slammed into the sides.

_**BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!**_  
An explosion of indescribable magnitude rocked Pokѐtopia to its deepest foundations as the building erupted into a mass of fireworks. One dazzling burst after another lit up the Pokѐtopia skyline, expanding into multicolored stars of light. It was the most incredible show of pyrotechnics that any of the tournament contestants could ever remember seeing. One blast followed another far too rapidly to keep up with, eventually merging into one giant blizzard of light. The Dragonite, silhouetted sharply against the blaze, roared and struck a pose. Just as quickly it was over, with a huge cloud of smoke hanging in the night sky and the last few embers drifting down to earth.

"That's right!" shouted Palmer, although compared to the explosions his voice now seemed much smaller. "Welcome to the big leagues!"

Whistling, cheering and clapping broke out from the members of the crowd who weren't still mesmerized. All of them were covered in a fine powder or cement, and smelled slightly singed.

"Whoa! How did they DO that?!?" asked Xavier, voicing everyone's thoughts.

Kane thought about this for a moment. "I suppose that they must've loaded the building with fireworks after it was vacated. It must have been really tough to choreograph it and take all the safety precautions and everything. But man, was it worth it!"

Markus was starry-eyed. "I still can't believe the way Regigigas just lifted that building!"

Ferk pointed to the crater that marked the spot where the building had stood. "Now that's what I call a groundbreaking!"

Universally tired out from the long day of travel and the spectacular opening ceremony, the trainers wearily stumbled off, headed for the contestants' village. It had been, without a doubt, quite a show.

***

The contestants' village consisted of a group of buildings near the ocean, some distance removed from the main city. Near the gateway there were the ubiquitous Pokemon Center and PokѐMart, and at a crossroads in the center stood a giant computer board that would display rankings, battle results, and so on once the tournament started.

Maecenas had collapsed into an armchair in the house he'd been provided with, no. 7B, with his Pokemon gathered around him. He had found some wild onions and basil growing under the windows, which he'd combined with a few choice ingredients of his own from his traveling bag to make his signature bruschetta (which was strong enough to give anyone garlic breath for a week). He and his team were now enjoying a midnight snack before turning in, munching on pieces of toasted bread slathered with the delicious spread and listening to the waves crashing against the shore in the distance.

Lucario stood next to Maecenas, manning the snacks platter and passing the bowl of bruschetta to anyone who wanted it. Paleo, Maecenas' Bastiodon, stood near the entertainment set, with Manaphy perched on its head. Both of them looked restful and content. Honchkrow was perched among the branches of the chandelier, holding a bread slice in one claw and looking out over the proceedings with a regal air. TerraFirma the Torterra was already curled up, asleep, in a corner, taking up most of the rest of the space in the room. Ludicolo, who had quickly located and consumed an enormous pack of soda in the house's fridge, had then promptly stumbled over to the sofa and passed out.

"Well, it was a pretty amazing first day, wasn't it?" Maecenas asked them, running a hand through his hair wearily. "Pokѐtopia is as awesome as ever, it was a great dinner--at least until the Rhyperior attacked--the opening ceremony was mind-blowing, and we've already met a lot of interesting new trainers."

_You certainly seemed to think so, _thought Lucario at him, with the telepathic equivalent of a chuckle.

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about," said Maecenas stiffly, looking flustered.

_You're turning brick red again, _was Lucario's only response._ Well, she certainly is quite pretty…_

Maecenas groaned. "You're impossible. Well, anyway, here we are in Pokѐtopia again! Are you all ready to dominate this tournament?"

A lusty cheer from those members of Maecenas' team that were still conscious filled the night.

***

Lucianne Delaray was not surprised to find herself unable to sleep-she hadn't expected anything else from her first night in a big city. Although the shock of the change of environment had been pretty jarring, she was still looking forward to the Pokemon battles to come, she admitted grudgingly to herself.

She somewhat regretted the scene she'd caused at dinner that night. Attacking the other contestants could hardly have given them a good first impression of her. She'd just lost control somewhat with that incredibly annoying guy with the ponytail who kept flirting with her. She'd be sure to apologize to the spacey-looking kid that Destructor had hit with a mangosteen the next day.

Luce unbraided the decorative feathers from her hair and placed them on the table next to her bed with a sigh. Pokѐtopia was an amazing place, all right, but she hoped not too many more things would go wrong.

In the house at the extreme rear of the village, close to the ocean, Varacei Alger was excitedly leafing through the rulebook. It mentioned that the tournament would begin with several rounds of single and double battles, then have a "qualifying event"-Varacei frowned-to determine the Tag Battle rankings. Battles would be randomly assigned to the Pokѐtopia Colosseums, although requests would be taken, and the final challenge for whatever tag team survived would be held in Stargazer Colosseum. That was the planetarium at the highest point of the island, Varacei realized, as he found it on the map that had been provided.

He was happy to see that the tournament battles wouldn't begin until the day after next. The opening night had certainly started things off with a bang, but some practice battles the next day would be even better.

There was a sudden BOOM! and a flash of light. Apparently Topaz, his Rotom, had gotten away and shorted out some appliance or other downstairs.

One last firework, thought Varacei to himself, closing his eyes contentedly. But now that the pyrotechnics were over, the battles would begin.

**Hey, everyone, it's Maecenas here. Well, I'm anxious to hear what you all think of this chapter. It was pretty fun to write, and the Regigigas scene was one I had in mind before I ever even thought about writing a fan fiction. Hope you enjoyed it?**

**Tomorrow will finally be the beginning of the battles for which you've all been clammering. Mycroft vs. Varacei, Alex vs. Markus, and Maikeru vs. Someone will definitely be appearing, but I could use some requests for any others. And since it's just practice for the first day, no one gets eliminated! Also, in Varacei's part at the end, I hinted as to how the tournament will be set up. I've included a little of everything, and I'm planning on a Pokemon Contest and a tournament dance at some point as well. I wonder if anyone can guess what the "qualifying event" will be.**

**A further apology for my one-sided use of characters is in order, since I'm still sticking to the characters that are the easiest for me to use. Since this was more of an event chapter than a character one, hopefully I can diversify starting next chapter. I'd appreciate getting a little more info on the personalities of the following Trainers:**

**-Mimi Darius (PokemonJoe1)**

**-Celeste Skye (Nicolette7)**

**No offense to either of you, and they're both good characters, but if I knew just a bit more about them, I'd have an easier time deciding how to fit them into the tournament.**

**Also, in a note to everyone, I could still use a lot more male trainers. The ratio of romantically available male-to-female Trainers is something like 4: 20 right now. Anyone who hasn't yet sent in an OC should feel free to do so-I'd be more than happy to use them!**

**Character credits:**

**Maecenas and Mycroft-Yours Truly**

**Alex De la Roche-nellchan0013**

**Markus-Legendary Fairy**

**Kane-KK the Prophet **

**Luce-kyuuketsuki fang (for some reason, whenever I upload my stories Fang's name vanishes, but hopefully by typing it out fully this time I can avoid it. Further apologies if not.)**

**Ferk-SilentlySnowing**

**Xavier-LastPrelude**

**Varacei-Startix etc. etc.**

**From now on, you can vote for three favorite characters, since several of you seemed torn. It's just to give me a general idea of who's the most popular. Thanks again for everyone's comments, reviews, and support!**

**Again, feel free to suggest battle pairings, and virtual cookies to those who caught the Nintendo Power reference!**

**Maecenas out.**


	6. Chapter 6: Opposite Attraction

The contestants awoke the next morning to brilliant blue skies and a crisp, salty ocean breeze blowing in from the east. Waves crashing against the shore roared in the distance, punctuated by the shrieking of Wingull and one or two Kricketune beginning to tune up for the day. Several Trainers had awoken early and were currently gathered around the computer board, talking excitedly. Although the tournament wouldn't start until the next day, the information on all of the Trainers had been posted overnight and many Trainers were looking up their own entries for amusement, or eagerly trying to find out as much as they could about the competition. A rankings list showed that Blaziken, Lucario, and Metagross were currently the most popular Pokemon in the tournament.

Curious, Maecenas looked up Alex de la Roche's entry and surveyed her Pokemon team with interest. Roserade, Blaziken, Beautifly, Aggron – it was an impressive line-up, all right. He noticed a link to several press cuttings from previous tournaments she'd entered and clicked on it.

The headlines were, not surprisingly, filled with "Rock" puns – "Fire from the Rock," "Rockin' the Stadium," and so on -- but Maecenas was impressed to find that Alex had placed first in the Hoenn League and been a semifinalist in the Hoenn Grand Festival. This girl was one talented Trainer!

Putting these thoughts out of his mind for the moment, he closed the entry and leaned back against the side of the computer board, impatiently tapping a finger against his Manaphy's Pokѐball. He just couldn't wait for someone to challenge him to a practice battle. All of his long weeks of practice were about to pay off in a big way.

***

A few yards away, Alex de la Roche herself was flipping through the Pokѐtopia Times and half-listening to a playful argument between two Trainers – a boy and a girl, probably dating – that was taking place behind her. The sea air was exquisitely crisp and energizing, and although she wasn't usually much of a morning person, Alex was already awake, alert and feeling ready for anything.

"All right, then, Alex, how about a practice battle to settle this?"

"What?" Alex set down her newspaper and looked over at the tall, blond Trainer dressed in orange who had spoken, before registering that he'd been speaking not to her, but to the long-haired girl dressed in blue standing next to him. Alex laughed nervously and walked over to her.

"Oh, no, don't tell me your name is Alex, too? This could get really confusing. My full name is Alexandria de la Roche."

The other girl smiled warmly at her and shook her hand. "Sorry about that! It is kind of a coincidence, isn't it? I'm Allesandra Cesarini."

Her companion, apparently not wanting to be left out of anything, jumped into the conversation. "And I am Markus Pearl, Alex's one and only true love – _this_ Alex, I mean," he added hastily, nodding towards Allesandra, who rolled her eyes at him.

"Well, anyway," she continued, "Markus and I were planning to have a little practice battle, to get ready for the tournament. Anyone want to come and watch us?"

Megan Rayme, who had been leaning against the computer board and drinking an early-morning cup of coffee, her hair pulled back into an unruly ponytail, perked up at this. "All right, now this I have to see."

Maecenas, looking ready for anything as usual, didn't hesitate a moment before running over to join them. "Count me in!"

Kane seemed to materialize out of thin air, somehow still managing to project his usual suave atmosphere despite being covered in scratches, bruises and the occasional bandage from the battle of the banquet the previous night. "Most excellent. And I presume you'll allow me to referee?"

Markus looked at him askance, but eventually nodded grudgingly. "Oh, all right then. Let's go, everyone!"

Markus, Allesandra, Kane, and a growing knot of spectators moved off, talking and laughing among themselves. Alex, feeling a bit left out, stood where she was and watched them go, unsure whether or not to join them.

Someone coughed in an attention-getting way behind her, and she turned to find a tall, thin Trainer with reddish-orange hair and headphones – Xavier, was it? – walking up to her.

"You're Alex, right? I'm Xavier Omnik from Mossdeep City. I was thinking – as long as they're all off having fun, how about we go and have a practice battle of our own?"

Alex brightened. "Sure! I'd be happy to. Don't think I'm going to go easy on you, though!"  
Xavier grinned, one of his hands already moving towards his Milotic's Pokѐball. "You know I wouldn't want it any other way."

***

The air filled with tension as the two rival Trainers, Alex and Markus, took their positions and faced each other from either side of the grassy field a ways off from the village that they'd decided to use for their battlefield. The small crowd of Trainers that had gathered fell silent in anticipation as Kane raised his hands and began:

"This will be a three-on-three single battle. Both Trainers will be allowed to substitute Pokemon as they deem necessary. All of the usual rules will be in effect, but there is no time limit.

"Let the battle … begin!"

Alex threw a Pokѐball, which sailed out over the dew-laden grass and burst open in a flash of light. "Come on, White!"

Markus was quick to follow her. "I'll go with Dark, then!"

The Togekiss and Honchkrow appeared in midair and soared off, their shadows racing on the ground below them.

Kane dropped his authoritative tone and immediately began a running commentary. "_And they're off! _Both Trainers have chosen to start with their aerial Pokemon, so it looks like we're in for a battle between light and darkness! Again, that's White the Togekiss from Allesandra Cesarini, and Dark the Honchkrow from Markus Pearl."

All this time the two Pokemon had been flying through the air, colliding with each other and scratching and clawing with an astonishing intensity. Now they broke apart and moved back to their Trainers.

"White, Aura Sphere!" called Alex.

"Counter with Dark Pulse!" shouted Markus.

The Honchkrow shot an odd blob of dark purple flames from its beak with an eerie screech, but before the attack could get very far, White's Aura Sphere slammed into it at full speed, causing it to vaporize instantly. The ball of blue energy continued its trajectory and crashed into the Honchkrow, which cawed in pain and struggled to stay airborne.

"And our first real confrontation between the two combatants ends in favor of the Togekiss!" Kane broke in again. "An excellent move there by Allesandra Cesarini, one of Sinnoh's top-ranked Trainers – and really quite a pretty girl, too."

Markus looked away from the battlefield long enough to shoot him a look of undiluted hatred.

"…Well, ahem, anyway … where was I? … A nice piece of prediction there on her part, as the Aura Sphere was clearly powerful enough to stop Honchkrow's most powerful special attack in its tracks. However, I've fought that Honchkrow before myself, and I'm guessing that Dark and Markus still have some sort of trick in store…"

"Hopefully Dark Pulse isn't Honchkrow's only weapon, or it won't be able to do anything if this keeps up," Megan mused to herself from the sidelines. "What they need right now is a change of strategy…"

Markus had apparently been thinking along the same lines. "Use Fly, then go right into a Drill Peck! Come on!" He was already starting to look a little unnerved, but the Honchkrow obeyed him instantly, and powerfully soared high into the air.

Alex's expression grew, if anything, even more confident. "All right, then! White, time for Plan B."

Following through with the attack, the Honchkrow sliced through the air like a rocket, wind screaming past it as it headed straight for the Togekiss.

Seconds before the collision, White launched a sizzling sphere of electricity from its mouth, hitting Dark at close range. With a surprised caw, the Pokemon fell heavily to the ground and struggled to get to its feet, blue sparks arcing from its feathers.

His airborne opponent wasn't about to give it a chance to recover. The very air around the Togekiss rippled and billowed, then formed itself into a scythe, which White launched toward Dark with a flap of its wings. The attack connected blindingly fast, leaving a large sear mark across its victim's feathers.

"And that's the classic Para-Flinch combo in action!" shouted Kane triumphantly. "Air Slash following paralysis from a Thunder Wave leaves the opponent totally incapacitated. These moves are gaining favor among Sinnoh Trainers lately, and it's easy to see why. Honchkrow's going to be hard-pressed to recover from this devastating assault!"

"All right!" Alex cheered. "Plan B rocks! Just like we practiced!"

Markus' fists were clenched, and his teeth gritted. "Come on, Dark! You can do this! Don't just lie down and take it!"

Breathing raggedly, the Honchkrow again took awkward flight, and flapped into a position above the Togekiss, looking for an opportunity to attack.

This was, it seemed, to be Dark's final mistake. Before almost anyone watching the battle knew what was happening, an incredible, fiery Hyper Beam had been blasted from White's mouth, launching the Big Boss Pokemon high into the air as it took the full force of the attack and was caught up in the beam. Markus' Honchkrow shrank into a far-off speck hundreds of feet above the ground and then vanished; leaving only a panicked screech echoing through the windy air and the last few sparks of energy from the Togekiss' attack settling slowly to the grass, as well as a few scorched and smoldering tailfeathers.

Kane squinted upward, looking for any sign of Honchkrow. "It's too close to call until it lands, but this could be it! Dark's taken several pretty damaging attacks already, and with a full-fledged Hyper Beam on top of that …" He trailed off, shaking his head.

"I can't believe how one-sided that was," said Savannah Hart wonderingly. "Dark never even got a chance to attack!"

"I know," Maecenas agreed, shaking his head. "Markus is supposed to be such a good Trainer – he's got all those badges and everything – you'd think he'd be able to counter Alex better."

Megan, standing next to them, was about to agree, when she saw some movement or other from the corner of her eye. "Hang on a second – what was that?"

Gasps filled the crowd as Honchkrow – looking battered, but still very much alive – soared back into view from a direction opposite that it had vanished into, looking determined and seeming to reflect a harsh white light. Immediately it zeroed in on Togekiss and rushed toward it at the speed of a jet.

Alex's mouth fell open in shock. "What … but… how?!..."

Markus pumped his fists in the air, an uncontrollable grin spreading across his face. "Now, Dark! Unleash Sky Attack!"

The light sparkling around the Pokemon erupted into a torrent of flames, and two wings of fire streamed out behind Dark as it slammed into White with amazing force, producing a shockwave that blew back the hair of everyone present, and knocked Maecenas' hat off completely.

Markus still wasn't done, though. "Finish it up with a double Night Slash!"

Dark's wings took on a dull purple light, and their feathers sharpened into wicked-looking points. With one final cry of "Honchkrow!" it brought them together with considerable force, both slicing into White. Seconds later the Pokemon fell to the ground, clearly unconscious.

Kane looked like he couldn't believe his eyes, a condition shared by all of the audience. Finally, he managed, "Togekiss—Togekiss is unable to battle! That means….The first victory goes to Markus and Honchkrow!"

A wave of cheers and whistles spread through the crowd. Dark struck a pose for photos like the natural movie star it was, then flapped over to land on Markus' shoulder and preened its feathers, looking superior and unconcerned.

Alex patted her fallen Pokemon on the head and recalled it to its Pokѐball, then turned furiously to Markus. _"HOW DID YOU DO THAT?"_

"It was my plan all along," he bragged, grinning and taking on a lecturing tone. "We tricked you into getting confident and letting down your guard, then, after Dark got launched by the Hyper Beam, he circled around, still out of sight, and charged up for the Sky Attack. You totally fell for it!"

Alex's look of rage gradually turned into a rueful grin. "Nice job, but that's still only one out of three. I don't think you'll be able to surprise me twice!"

Markus recalled Dark to its Pokѐball and unclipped another one from his belt, twirling it on the end of his finger unconcernedly. "Bring it on, sweetheart!"

Confident grins lit up the faces of both of them as the next two Pokѐballs sailed out into the air.

***

Several miles away, in the heart of the Pokѐtopia city proper, identical confident grins graced the features of Alex de la Roche and Xavier Omnik as they prepared for battle. The two had found a dingy courtyard walled in by office buildings to use as a makeshift stadium, and their practice match was about to begin. Alex was already looking forward to testing out her team against a good, strong opponent for the first time in a few months, and it was clear that her opponent felt much the same.

Xavier grabbed a Pokѐball and tossed it into the air. "Any final words before my awesome victory, Alex?"

Alex tipped her beret back to a jaunty angle. "I think you've got it backwards. But let's get this under way!"

"GO!" they shouted in unison, and two Pokѐballs erupted against the concrete.

Xavier had begun with Milotic, which stretched and coiled gracefully in place, rainbows arcing from its scales. Alex's Roserade materialized and stared down its much larger opponent.

Alex couldn't believe her luck that Xavier had begun with a Pokemon that was weak to hers. "Well, this should be easy. Roserade, go!"

"That's what you think," Xavier shot back instantly. "Music on!"

A bouncy, surf's-up theme burst from his radio, amplifying as it echoed off of the walls. Milotic leaped into action and began firing off Ice Beams in syncopation to the beat. Roserade tried desperately to dodge, managing to evade all of the frigid blasts with great effort. Patches of ice now covered the ground on Alex's side of the stadium, which would make it difficult for Roserade to maneuver.

Alex was shocked by the ferocity of the assault. She had seen a battle of Xavier's on TV once, and remembered his unusual musical battling style. Now a thought occurred to her.

"I thought your Milotic only liked slow songs!" she protested, and groaned inwardly as she realized what little sense that statement would make in any other context. That would just go to show how unusual this tournament was already becoming.

Xavier's permanent grin got, if anything, even brighter. "We've worked on adapting new music styles into our battle strategies! I hope you like it!"

Back on the battlefield, Roserade was shaking its head to clear it, but the upbeat theme persisted, preventing it from thinking clearly. It looked up in shock to see an enormous wave building behind its opponent, perfectly matching the steel drums as they built into the refrain.

Xavier cheered. "All right! Surfin' Sinnoh!"

Alex gritted her teeth. It looked like the battle was about to wipe out.

**At last, the first battles have begun! I want to apologize for not writing anything for so long. It was recently homecoming week at my school, and I was having way too much fun to write. I hope the end result is worth the wait!**

**This is Part One of the practice battles. Both of these two will conclude in the next chapter, and at least two new ones (Megan vs. Maecenas, Varacei vs. Mycroft) will take place. Requests for battles are still open—any I don't have time for in the practice battles might be used once the official tournament starts. That's coming right up as well!**

**I now have an avatar, which is a drawing of Maecenas—the OC, that is-- done by myself. I'm still getting the hang of Photoshop, so it doesn't look quite as good as I would like, but now you have a pretty good idea of what he looks like. I might provide a better version eventually.**

**I would have continued the second battle longer in this chapter, but I kind of ran out of time. Trust me, Xavier vs. Alex will get a lot more dramatic soon!**

**And now for the character credits:**

**Maecenas-yours truly**

**Alex-nellchan0013 (hope you liked how the battle started! Don't worry, I'll rescue Alex pretty soon.)**

**Xavier-LastPrelude**

**Megan-Fire Drastar**

**Kane-KK the Prophet (He makes a better referee than you'd expect, eh?)**

**Sevvy-kyuuketsuki fang**

**Alex and Markus-Legendary Fairy (Part two of the battle coming soon! Leaf vs. Snow is next.)**

**That's all for now, but with any luck the next chapter will be up sooner! Thanks for all your support.**

**Maecenas out.**


	7. Chapter 7: Double Visions

**Chapter 7: Double Visions**

**Disclaimer: Maecenas is finally back! And, as luck would have it, I still own nothing but Maecenas, Mycroft and the plotline. Here goes!**

With an almighty crash that drowned out even the music, the wave broke, sending a jet of spray high into the air and blocking Alex's view of the battlefield.

"Rose!" she cried out in a panic, looking frantically around for any sign of what was happening beneath the raging torrent. Could this be over already? As the water went down, though, she saw her Pokemon still standing, looking a bit rattled, but its face set in a determined mask. Apparently it had managed to leap out of the way just before the bulk of the wave had hit, and had suffered little more than a mild soaking.

Alex sighed in relief and ran a hand through her hair. "All right, now try a Giga Drain!"

The two flower bunches on Rose's hands glowed with a sparking, bright green light, and with a sweep of its arms it seemed to remotely wrench a stream of similarly-colored energy from Xavier's Milotic, which reeled backwards as it was hit by the super-effective Grass-type attack. The drained energy flew across the courtyard back to Rose, who absorbed it in a bust of light and instantly looked healthier and more alert.

Well, that was one successful attack she'd pulled off, Alex told herself with satisfaction. The only reason that it had worked, though, was that she had told Rose to launch the attack right after the surf had hit, before Xavier had had time to launch a counterattack. How could she pull that off again?

_Xavier Battles with rhythm_, Alex told herself. _He always launches attacks in time to the music that he plays. How can I turn that against him?_

Listening carefully to the song, Alex heard the steel drums again beginning to build into the refrain, suddenly, an idea came to her.

"All right, Milotic, now try a"--

Xavier was interrupted by Alex, who shouted, "Now, Rose! Get out there and launch Petal Dance from a distance!"

By the time the sea serpent launched another powerful, perfectly timed attack-- a Dragon Pulse this time, as it turned out – Rose had already leapt into action, leaping and dodging around the edges of the courtyard and battering its opponent with a constant volley of flower petals, which swirled around the Milotic like an herbaceous tornado. Milotic tried to launch more Dragon Pulses, but they were all blown back by the Petal Dance and crashed into the concrete, sending chips of cement flying.

Then, suddenly, the plan seemed to go awry. Rose danced perhaps half a step too close to Milotic, whose tail instantly lashed out with the force of a whip, slamming into the much smaller Roserade in a direct hit and sending it flying into the air. Rose hit the side of a building with a nasty thud--which perfectly coincided with a high note in Xavier's music--and slowly slid to the ground.

"Oh, no! Rose, are you all right?" Alex called. Her Pokemon rose unsteadily to its feet, still conscious but looking heavily winded. Xavier saw his opportunity and seized it.

"Finish it off! Another Aqua Tail!" His Milotic was quick to comply, and Rose was again sent skidding across the pavement.

The two Pokemon took their positions and stared each other down, both looking heavily injured from the intense fight. It was clear, though, that the Milotic was in better shape by far. Despite being bruised, scratched, and plastered with flower petals, it still stood at regal attention, its scales sparkling and its beautiful magenta eyes glinting with boundless depth.

Then, suddenly, those eyes clouded over and the Pokemon toppled, hitting the ground full-length with a crash and raising billows of dust from all sides. The last guitar chords wailed off into the distance, and for a moment a stunned silence hung in the air.

Both Trainers gave cries of shock at the surprise knockout. A stunned-looking Xavier ran over to his Pokemon and recalled it, muttering, "Wha … How… How did you … How … No way!?! …"

Rose got shakily to its feet and grinned slyly, and the answer came to Alex in a second.

"It was Roserade's Poison Point," she explained. "When Milotic threw Rose into the building, it must have been hit with one of her thorns. Then during the face-off, the poison was sapping all of Milotic's energy. It didn't last long after that."

She gave Xavier her prettiest smile. "I did warn you not to underestimate me – if you do, you just might be taken down before you know what's happening!"

_Of course,___I_ didn't see that coming either, but never mind,_ she added to herself. _Best to keep him guessing._

"Aaargh_, lucky_," Xavier grumbled. "I never could've pulled that off, no matter how hard I tried!"

Then he seemed to catch himself, and regaining his usual confident tone, said, "Well, you may have gotten lucky one time, but that's the end of it. From here on, this battle is all mine!"

Alex winced, knowing that, for all his self-assured banter, Xavier was right. She had been totally overwhelmed by Xavier's rhythm and power before Rose's Poison Point had given her a lucky break. What could she possibly do to turn the battle around?

"All right, let's go!" shouted Xavier, shattering her reverie. His next Pokemon, an Umbreon, appeared in a blaze of light and sat at attention, swishing its tail hypnotically. A new song began on Xavier's radio, a sly, sneaky jazz tune with plenty of saxophones and snare drums that fit the Umbreon perfectly.

Suddenly, Alex's eyes lit up as an idea came to her. She recalled Rose and grabbed a new Pokѐball off of the chain on her belt.

***

On the other end of the battlefield, Xavier was getting nervous. He'd thought he was getting the upper hand, but then this Alex girl had surprised him and knocked out his best Pokemon from out of nowhere. He'd have to be extra careful not to let his guard down in the future.

Looking up, he saw that his opponent, who had previously seemed to be racking her brain for a strategy, had now straightened up and recalled her Roserade, looking confident. Realizing that Alex must have arrived at a plan of some kind, Xavier tensed, waiting for her to send out her next Pokemon.

"Go, Kirls!" Alex shouted, and a Pokemon appeared in a flash of light.

A Kirlia.

Xavier burst out laughing. "You're using an underevolved Psychic-type against an Umbreon? Well, this should be an easy win!"

Alex shot him a look, then bent down and whispered at length to her Kirlia, who nodded excitedly. Xavier didn't like that at all, but he resolved to press whatever advantage he had for the moment.

"All right, Kirls! Let's go!" Alex shouted, just as Xavier called to his Umbreon, "Shadow Ball!"

The mahogany irises of the Kirlia's large, expressive eyes suddenly turned the intense, vivid electric blue of Psychic energy, and it leapt into an elegant ballet stance, spinning away on the points of its feet just as a huge ball of black and indigo energy from the Umbreon exploded on the ground right where it had been, sending concrete shrapnel clattering across the pavement.

Kirls spun and dove around the arena much as Rose had before, narrowly evading one Shadow Ball after another from Xavier's Umbreon, who was perfectly in sync to the music as usual. Although Kirlia's eyes were still glowing blue and it seemed to be concentrating intensely, at the moment whatever psychic power it was exerting didn't seem to be having an effect. Umbreon dashed after it relentlessly, growling.

Then, in the blink of an eye, the song on Xavier's radio switched off and was replaced with a dreamy waltz, which just as quickly gave way to a mariachi song that it was easy to picture a Ludicolo dancing to. Xavier's Umbreon skidded to a stop, confused, and Kirls leapt to the opposite end of a courtyard.

For what seemed like the hundredth time that day, Xavier was shocked. "How did you…" he muttered, fumbling for his radio. As he stared at the display, it again began cycling through different stations as though possessed. His palms sweating, Xavier tried to switch it back, but something prevented his hand from reaching the dial.

Realizing suddenly what was going on, Xavier glared at Kirls, who winked at him innocently before returning to psychically changing the stations. Finally it stopped at an intense metal song, too loud even for Xavier's liking, and danced back to its trainer.

Xavier frowned. This didn't seem like the kind of music that an elegant, delicate Kirlia would enjoy…

"Great job, Kirls. That was perfect," said Alex brightly, patting her Pokemon affectionately. The Kirlia took a theatrical bow as it returned to its Pokѐball.

Xavier, gritting his teeth, realized that Kirls had only been there to set up for another of Alex's Pokemon, one undoubtedly more suitable for taking on an Umbreon. He had fallen right into Alex's trap, and all he could do was watch as she sent out her next battler.

"Go, Aron!" shouted Alex, tossing a fresh Pokѐball into the air.

Xavier laughed weakly. "An Aron? Why wouldn't you…"

He was cut off as a gigantic, muscular Aggron exploded from the ball with a roar. Its sky-blue eyes regarded Umbreon, who was looking considerably shell-shocked, with amusement.

"I just liked the name, so I decided to keep it the same when he evolved," Alex explained. "All right, I hope you're ready. Because now we're doing this our way!"

***

"Oh my gosh! Selphy, you have to get over here right now!"

A somewhat annoyed Selphy Renton looked up from the book she'd been reading, sprawled comfortably on a sunny park bench in the park located behind Pokѐtopia Tower, to see who had spoken. It turned out to have been Candice Isra, a sixteen-year-old girl whom she'd chatted with briefly at the banquet the previous night. As before, Candice was dressed in an array of bright red clothing and was looking exceedingly excited.

Selphy sighed, but set down her book and stood up to face Candice. "What's going on?"

Candice's eyes sparkled. "Totally hot guy alert! Just follow me, all right?"

That got Selphy's attention quickly. She turned and ran after Candice, who had dashed off without waiting for her answer. The two of them sprinted across the Colosseum in the middle of the park—Selphy remembered that it was called Sunny Park Colosseum and would be used for the tournament—and wound up hiding behind one of the vast, ancient trees near it, regarding the teenager standing several yards away from them. He was tall and somewhat handsome, with unruly dark blue hair and a pair of goggles pushed up onto his forehead.

Candice whipped out what Selphy recognized as a P*DA, or Pokemon Digital Assistant, onto which she'd apparently downloaded the Trainer rankings from the computer board, and began scrolling through the text. "His name is Maikeru Tapang, I think. He's been in a couple tournaments before this, has a really cool Pokemon team—my gosh, he's really cute," she added with a spacey giggle.

"So, are you going to go over and introduce yourself to him?"

"What!?" said Selphy incredulously. "All this insanity was your idea, anyway. You go!"

"No, you first!"

"No way. You!"

Before the argument could progress any further, a blast of electricity erupted from nowhere, frying both girls in a direct hit. Shrieking, they were flung back into one of the Dive Ball-shaped fountains that dotted the park, only to be hit with an Ice Beam, which froze the water instantly and glued them to the spot. Maikeru glanced over to where the explosion had taken place with a look of alarm, not noticing Selphy and Candice struggling to free themselves a few yards off, and walked hurriedly away.

"What was all that about?" Selphy complained, scraping at the ice that bound her to both Candice and the fountain.

_My apologies, _said a deep, smooth male voice somewhere above them, a voice that was refined, but bursting with barely suppressed mischief. Selphy, who recognized the speaker instantly, whirled angrily to see her own Gengar floating in the air with her Wartortle standing on the ground beside it, both grinning.

"What could possibly induce you to attack me out of nowhere?" she grumbled, freeing herself from the ice with a frigid crunch and striding angrily over to her Pokemon.

_Well, we have to stop all of this flirting of yours somehow, don't we? _the Gengar reasoned. _After we realized what was going on, Wartortle here decided that the time was ripe for a bit of a prank, and for once I agreed. We hadn't meant to involve the other girl, but I'm afraid I can't concentrate my Thunderbolt that specifically. Hopefully she'll forgive me._

Candice stared incredulously at Selphy. "Those two would go through all that just to stop you from saying hi to some guy?"

Her companion rolled her eyes. "Welcome to my world."  
***

Lucianne Delaray walked briskly through the crowds on the second floor of the spacious and extravagant Pokѐtopia Five-Star Mall, her arms laden with shopping bags. Although she wasn't usually much of a shopping type, she had found the mall to be excellent and well-stocked, and in only a few minutes she had managed to stock up on all of the supplies she'd needed after her previous journey. Now she was ready to find a nice, deserted corner near the trainers' village and begin training her team for the competition.

As Luce headed for the exit, though, a familiar sight caught her eye. A tall, lanky Trainer with his long, dark hair tied into a ponytail was standing at one of the vending machines near the doors.

After the disaster at the banquet, Luce wasn't about to let Kane get away from her this time. Spinning around, she dashed over to him angrily, growling, "All right, you…"

"What?" The Trainer faced her, and Luce discovered to her embarrassment that it hadn't been Kane after all. The boy facing her appeared to be about Kane's age and height, but he wasn't as muscular and his eyes were a warm blue. He was holding a can of Lemonade in his hand and regarding her with a puzzled expression.

Luce went violently red. "Ohhh, sorry! I thought you were someone else!"

He chuckled. "Well, judging from your tone of voice, I should be glad not to be that someone else. I'm Nick Brooks."

He held out his hand, and Luce shook it gratefully. "So, I take it you're here for the tournament as well?"

"Right. My name is Lucianne Delaray. I'm from the Survival Area. Umm, did you just get here?"

Nick inclined his head in a nod. "Ordinarily I'd be out battling already, but I ran out of Pokemon food on the trip and I don't think my Blaziken would forgive me if I didn't feed it right away."

Luce was just glad he hadn't been around the previous day to witness her attacking the contestants at dinner. At least there would be one other Trainer in the tournament who didn't hate her from the outset.

"Well, Lucianne, it's good meeting you," said Nick with a smile. "I'll see you again soon, I'm sure." He walked off, pushed through the sliding doors of the mall and disappeared.

Luce watched him go. It was a relief to meet someone nice after the nightmare that was Kane.

She allowed a smile to creep onto her face. Maybe this tournament wouldn't be so bad after all.

***

Mycroft Williamson walked down Pokѐtopia Main Street in an eminently good mood. He had just left Pokѐtopia Outfitters, and he was now attired in a crisp, brand new suit made exactly to his specifications. After some consideration, he had decided to take Maecenas' advice and give his old suit to the Welzz as an appetizer. The Pokemon enjoyed attempting to eat his top hat at the best of times, and after months of travel his suit had been sun-baked and crusted with salt until it had achieved the consistency of a potato chip. After eagerly consuming nearly two thirds of the outfit, the Whiscash had passed out in sheer nirvana and been recalled to its Pokѐball. Mycroft's signature top hat, however, had been expertly restored, brushed, and polished, and was currently perched at an unusually rakish angle on his neatly combed blue-gray hair.

Mycroft strolled past restaurants and hotels, contentedly taking in the sights and sounds of the familiar city. The titanic Colosseum that stood in the middle of Main Street was deserted in preparation for the battles taking place there the next day, but it was the only island of silence in a sea of activity. Street vendors shouted out their wares—"Get yo' Max Revives here!"—tourists crowded the shops, impromptu Pokemon battles were constantly breaking out in the corners—Mycroft had to duck to avoid being hit with a wayward SolarBeam at one point—and in general, the city was filled with the kind of bustle and activity that Mycroft loved.

Turning off into a side street, Mycroft headed for the contestant's village with the idea of letting his team out for some exercise. As he caught a glimpse of the grassy fields and the ocean beyond between two buildings, he thought he saw some sort of struggle taking place in the distance.

Frowning, Mycroft strode through the alley and out into the sunlight, arriving just in time to see an enraged Infernape wrestling with a young boy.

Alarmed, Mycroft dashed over and surveyed the situation. As he looked closer, it didn't seem that the boy was in any danger—he and the Infernape seemed to be wrestling playfully over a plate of Lava Cookies, which lay neglected on the ground. Only Mycroft's gentlemanly training prevented him from grabbing one of the delicious cookies, but he instead cleared his throat to get the combatants' attention—rather loudly, in order to be heard over the sounds of the struggle.

The boy and Pokemon both looked up in surprise, and Mycroft noted that the boy was probably old enough to be the Infernape's trainer, although he couldn't have even been five feet tall. "Excuse me," Mycroft began, "do I remember you from the banquet last night?"

Disentangling himself from his Pokemon and rising to his feet, the other nodded. "Right. I'm Varacei Alger. Sorry about the commotion, Firebrawl here and I were just having a bit of friendly competition over the Lava Cookies."

"I could see that," said Mycroft with a laugh. "So, where are you from?"

"Lavaridge Town, actually, although I've been traveling around a lot. I got here on my shiny Metagross, Ragnarok."

Mycroft inclined an eyebrow, one of the skills he had perfected over the years. "Really? I own a shiny Metagross as well. Rather a coincidence, isn't it?"

Varacei looked interested. "Definitely. You know, we should have them battle each other some time—see which one is the stronger, that kind of thing."

"How about right now?" asked Mycroft, gesturing around him to the ocean-side cliff. "This would make a fine arena, and I'll admit that you have me curious. Three-on-three, starting with our Metagross, perhaps?"

"Sounds like all you guys need is a referee," said a voice to their left.

Mycroft looked over in that direction to see Ferk Ramalo make another unexpected appearance, grinning as he ran in from the outskirts of the city to join them. "I've gotta see this one, so how about I act as an unofficial judge? Don't worry; I've done this a million times back on the Islands."

Mycroft naturally felt some trepidation, but eventually shrugged. "Oh, very well. Shall we begin, then?"

He and Varacei took their positions on the field, both of them already looking focused and determined. Ferk began his spiel.

"This is gonna be a totally awesome battle between Mycroft Williamson and Varacei Alger. Both can use, like, three Pokemon, and substitute as they deem necessary. A'right, you dudes ready?"

Varacei nodded tersely, Mycroft merely groaned at Ferk's announcing style.

"Then let's GO!"

A Timer Ball and an ordinary Pokѐball exploded on the grass, and the two titanic, shiny Metagross faced each other. Mycroft's Pokemon was considerably more lithe and thin than Ragnarok, who was a tremendous and burly Pokemon covered with dents and scars, with metallic fangs jutting ominously from its mouth.

"Earthquake!" shouted Varacei instantly, just as Mycroft anticipated him and called, "Carnegie, Magnet Rise now!"

Glowing with electromagnetic violet light, Carnegie launched itself awkwardly into the air, narrowly escaping its adversary's attack. Ragnarok's Earthquake opened a tremendous fissure in the ground with a roar, sending chunks of earth flying into the air, which drummed against Carnegie's metal underside hollowly.

Mycroft nonchalantly adjusted his spectacles. Varacei might not look it, but he was an incredibly skilled Trainer, and he seemed to be in perfect sync with his Metagross. This would be a tough contest.

He allowed himself a smile. There was nothing he enjoyed better.

***

**Welcome back at last! It's Maecenas here, back from wandering around the Distortion World, completely lost and looking for Cyrus and Giratina, to write another chapter.**

**First off, happy Halloween to those who celebrate such things! It's definitely going to be a raucous night around where I live, particularly if the clouds clear up enough to give us the requisite spooky moon.**

**I really apologize for taking so long with the new chapter. I don't really have an excuse this time, except that battle scenes take me forever to write. Hopefully you guys forgive me?**

**Well, this was part two of three of the practice battles, with the epic finale coming up as fast as I can write it. Alex vs. Markus still has to reach its conclusion, as does Xavier vs. Alex and now the entirety of Mycroft vs. Varacei. Looks like we have a long and intense Chapter 8 ahead of us!**

**Heh-heh, the little scene with Candice and Selphy was plenty of fun to write, but I had to close my eyes when I typed "he's sooo cute." I'm still a little horrified at myself…**

**The titles of the practice battle chapters so far—"Opposite Attraction" and "Double Visions"—have both had multiple meanings. Can anyone guess them all? I'm still trying to think of a good title for Part 3, one with sufficient clever obscurity.**

**Another bit of food for thought: This fan fiction is certainly taking up a lot of my time right now, but that doesn't mean I haven't considered some other projects! Which of these sounds the most interesting to you?**

**-A: Another Pokemon fan fiction, featuring Maecenas and the gang. Trust me; this is NOT the only Pokemon fan fiction I'll ever write.**

**-B: An original Percy Jackson and the Olympians-based fan fiction. For those who don't know the series, it's a somewhat Harry Potter-based series involving the concept that the Greek gods of Mount Olympus are now living in America—Mount Olympus is now above the Empire State Building, etc.—and the heroes are the demigods, their children with mortals. The first book in the series is currently being adapted for a movie. For my story, I'm thinking of something about a trio of demigods, the children of Athena (the guy WILL be something of a self-insert), Aphrodite (priceless humor potential, trust me. Kane times a thousand), and Apollo (no comment.) I have a lot of really good ideas for this.**

**-C: An original Sherlock Holmes story (I've already started it) that works kind of like the Hound of the Baskervilles without the hound. Entitled the Problem of Sherringford Manor.**

**-D: Trying to organize a forum on for the Lilycove Tournament canon-which includes this story-and all of its readers.**

**Well, those are some of the ideas buzzing around that fertile mind of mine these days. You guys let me know what you think! I'll probably at least attempt all of these at some point.**

**In the news lately, LastPrelude, Xavier Omnik's author, has started his own tournament story, the Final Game Tournament. It's a really neat piece of work, and I've submitted Maecenas. Go check it out if you haven't already!**

**And now for the character credits:**

**Mycroft-Yours Truly**

**Alex-nellchan0013**

**Xavier-LastPrelude**

**Candice-PokeStarr**

**Selphy-DevoTheMadCashCow**

**Maikeru-OnyxShade7 (at last, he's in! And he'll be back!)**

**Luce-Kyuuketsuki Fang**

**Nick-Supreme Kimchi**

**Varacei-Startix**

**Ferk-SilentlySnowing**

**Well, there we go! Hope you all enjoyed! Chapter 8 coming soon.**

**Maecenas out.**


	8. Chapter 8: Third Charms, Part One

**Disclaimer: First, an apology is in order for the extra-long time between uploads. This time I have an excuse, though—I've been incredibly busy. You wouldn't believe the half of it—joining organizations left and right, conjugating Latin verbs, writing and co-producing a screenplay, starting a new fan fiction (this would be a good time for Percy Jackson and the Olympians fans to cheer), filling out a beta reader profile, and eating about four full-size pizzas in a very short space of time. And when all that was done, crashed unexpectedly, my Internet went down and I got a dreadful cold… **_**shall I go on?!?**_** But in any case, I'm back, still owning nothing but Maecenas, Mycroft and this excellent if regrettably sporadic tournament story. Get ready for the epic conclusion of the practice battles: Third Charms!**

A vast expanse of blue sky shone blindingly over the ocean as a lone Wailord floated through the cerulean waves at a relaxed pace, bound for Pokѐtopia. On the colossal whale Pokémon's back—which was bleached a lighter shade of turquoise from weeks in the sun—were two figures: an Absol, which was curled up asleep, the sun gleaming sharply off of the wicked scythe protruding from its forehead, and a seventeen-year-old Trainer, Rhea Abucayan.

Rhea, a fairly short girl with shoulder-length brown hair contained in an ashy gray beret decorated with the Philippine sun and stars, was sprawled on the back of her Wailord lazily, listening to the very same tropical-style song that Xavier was at that moment using to coordinate his Milotic's attacks so successfully in his battle against Alex.

Her mood of peaceful detachment was not destined to last much longer, however, for as the Pokѐtopia skyline drifted majestically into view on the horizon the Float Whale Pokemon blasted a celebratory jet of water spray into the air, completely dousing its Trainer in the process.

"Aaaargh, Kasal! Oh hey, we're here!" Rhea sputtered. Brushing the saltwater off of her deeply tanned arms, she jumped up and ran lightly across the Pokemon's back, maintaining her balance with the ease of a professional runner, and shook her Absol awake. The Pokemon instantly jumped to its feet and looked around at the boundless expanse of water surrounding them.

Kasal the Wailord gave a bellowing grunt that translated roughly from the cetacean as "The claws, Espada! Not the claws!" Looking sheepish, the Absol retracted its claws and sat down again, its bladed tail swishing back and forth like an ominous pendulum as it watched more of Pokѐtopia Island gradually coming into view.

"It's impressive, isn't it?" said Rhea, after a few seconds of cleaning the salt water off of her silver-framed glasses. "This tournament should be something else, all right."

The Absol nodded, its rusty red eyes already glimmering at the thought of more battles to be won.

A few more minutes of steady swimming brought Kasal up to the glittering waterfront of Pokѐtopia. It docked at the gateway, and within a second Rhea and her Absol had eagerly jumped ashore. Rhea recalled her Wailord to its Pokѐball—it still amazed her how a Pokemon that massive could fit into a sphere not much larger than a softball—and turned to observe the vast city of Pokѐtopia expanding before her.

Not wasting a moment, she dashed off towards Main Street, her feet clattering against the cement at speeds that would have impressed a Crobat and a confident smile spread across her face. She could only imagine the fantastic battles that must have been taking place throughout the city at that very moment.

***

"Blaze, use Flare Blitz and then go straight into a Close Combat, let's go!" Alessandra Cesarini shouted to her Infernape, the light freckles on her face scrunched into a galaxy of concentration.

With a wild screech, the Pokemon took a running start into a somersaulting leap in midair, crackling orange flames surrounding its body as it headed straight for Markus' Empoleon.

Markus, however, had seen his girlfriend's move coming. "Counter with an Aqua Jet right away! Don't let it get a chance to move!"

The duel between the two Pokemon had been raging with brutal intensity for no small amount of time. Sizzling impact craters dotted the makeshift arena where they had collided recently, the grass looked like a stampeding Rhydon had hit it, and all of the spectators had moved back several feet to be on the safe side. Both the Infernape and the Empoleon were looking heavily winded, and were coated in minor scratches and debris. Despite having a type advantage, the Empoleon looked distinctly the worse of the two—its trident-shaped crown was dented and tarnished, and its tightly packed coat of dark blue, waterproof feathers was ruffled into disorder.

However, it was still far from submission. At Markus' command, the powerful Water-type squawked out what sounded like a valiant battle cry and flung itself into the air at its opponent, a raging torrent of water streaming out behind it. The Aqua Jet met Blaze's Flare Blitz in midair with a deafeningly loud _crack_, and clouds of steam filled the air with a sibilant hiss as the flames were suddenly extinguished.

"And for the moment it's too close to call…man, I can't see anything!…but I think we can all agree that that was quite a collision," Kane broke in again.

"Alex has done an amazing job so far counteracting her Infernape's weakness to Water—helped, of course, by several super-effective Fighting moves—but Markus has never been far behind. These two are incredibly well-matched; you just can't deny it. Okay, now the mist is starting to clear…wait a…what was that?!?"

Visibility began to patchily return, and the Trainers present gasped as they watched the scene playing out before them: Alex's Infernape had somehow recovered from the Aqua Jet almost instantly and was currently delivering a flurry of chops, kicks, and swipes to its opponent too rapidly for anyone to see anything but a violent blur of motion and flying sparks amid huge clouds of dust kicked up by the struggle. Blaze had somehow managed to pull off a full-scale Close Combat.

With an incredible backward flip the Infernape delivered the final blow and somersaulted out of the fray, landing in front of its Trainer with a look of pleased exhaustion spread across its features. Markus' Empoleon struggled to its feet, breathing heavily.

"I'm amazed it could take all that and still be standing!" Maecenas muttered, visibly impressed. "That thing's gotta be as tough as nails to withstand an attack like that Close Combat. Still, it won't be able to keep it up for much longer, and I'll bet Markus knows that too. It's now or never…"

Nick Brooks, who had recently drifted over from the contestants' village to watch the battle, nodded in assent. "I'm just stunned that they're in this situation at all—it really should be the other way around. Alex and that Infernape of hers are incredible! I suppose she had Flare Blitz cancel out the Aqua Jet on purpose, so Blaze could attack Markus' Empoleon with no risk of being damaged. That's some _incredible _prediction at work there!"

"I suppose it's because she and Markus know each other so well—they each have an instinctive knowledge of what the other's going to do," Megan mused. "It'd make them one wicked tag team…"

She was cut off by another screech from the Empoleon as it snapped back to attention, its injuries forgotten for the moment. Markus wasted no time to give it a command: "Hydro Cannon, **NOW**!"

An ominous blue light glowed deep in the Penguin Pokemon's eyes, and it leaned forward, spreading its wings, and blasted an incredible jet of high-pressure water spray from its mouth—the same attack Kane's Empoleon had used against Destructor the previous night. The attack ripped into the ground at full force, sending chunks of earth flying into the air, and raced along the field towards Infernape, seemingly unforeseen and unstoppable.

That, at least, was the way it had appeared, but Alessandra Cesarini clearly had other plans. "Okay, just like we practiced!" she called crisply to her Pokemon, betraying no sign of stress even at such a tense moment.

None of the Trainers present were ever to forget what happened. Blaze whipped forwards into a blur of motion and jumped onto the Hydro Cannon, running on water against the current and moving even faster in the opposite direction than the attack had been racing towards it mere moments before. Alex jumped nimbly out of the way as the water raced past her, drenching the spot her Pokemon had just left, and on the other end of the field Blaze surfed across the final few feet of the attack and slammed a Mach Punch into the Empoleon's side.

The Pokemon was thrown into the air by the force of the impact, seemingly in slow motion, and crumpled instantly, slumping to the ground totally spent. Blaze crossed its arms and swished its tail, looking smug, and the flames on its head burned yet dazzlingly brighter. For a moment no sound could be heard but the rush of the wind through whatever of the grass hadn't been obliterated by the battle.

The scene was an exact mirror of when Markus' Honchkrow had unexpectedly defeated Alex's Togekiss some twenty minutes before. The crowd gasped and began to applaud, Kane was at a loss for words (making in all a grand total of twice in his entire life), and this time it was Markus' turn for outraged disbelief. "What…aaargh…I…how! HOW?"

"You're so cute when you stutter," Alex grinned. "Blaze and I did some extra training to develop that little move. It's too bad you never saw our match against Crasher Wake back in Pastoria City, or you would've known about it…not that I'm not grateful!"

Markus swallowed nervously. "All right, so we're even. You're ready for the tiebreaker?"

Alex's grin deepened. "You bet."

_"And they're off!" _Kane's shout echoed over the plain for the third time as the final pair of combatants appeared.

***

After the flashes of light had dissipated, for a few seconds none of the spectators could see anything but two furrows racing furiously through the grass towards the center of the battlefield. Then the two Pokemon leaped into the air simultaneously and crashed into each other, both being knocked back into a clearing by the impact.

On Alex's side was a dark blue quadruped covered in a fine coat of fur, with lovely indigo eyes and flowing ears and tail. Around it sparkled a cloud of ice crystals, which refracted the sunlight into miniature rainbows. Opposite crouched a fluffy, rusty-colored creature, similarly built, that seemed to have leaves sprouting from its body. The shiny Glaceon and Leafeon, though adorable, both had feline game faces on and were growling fiercely at one another.

"Oh, great," Markus muttered, noticing that he was at a disadvantage yet again. "Well, we aren't going to let that stop us, are we, Leaf?"

His Pokemon gave a rippling, keening cry that exuded sheer confidence. The sunlight sparkled brilliantly off of its immaculate fur, and it struck a battle pose.

"It's really interesting how their teams are like matching halves," said Sevvy thoughtfully, scribbling notes on a small notebook she'd produced from her bag. "First a 'light' Flying-type and a 'dark' one, then two fully-evolved Sinnoh starters, one Fire and one Water, and now this—a Leafeon and a Glaceon, and they're both shiny. No wonder this is so close…"

"Opposites attract, I suppose," Selphy commented. "No wonder they're soul mates."

"Quite a rare treat to see not one, but two Shiny Pokemon battling each other!" Kane bellowed. "Not to mention, of course, that this will decide the outcome of the battle between Alex and Markus! We're still waiting for the first move to be made…"

"Iron Tail!" Markus shouted, rendering Kane's comment obsolete. The Trainer's tunnel vision was evident to all present. His fists were clenched, and a determined light sparked in his eyes.

Leaf jumped into the air, its tail hardening from plant matter into polished metal. Somersaulting in midair, it flung itself at the Glaceon, which watched its approach calmly, much as Blaze had before. A sudden look of panic shot across Markus' face as he realized what was coming. "Dodge!" he choked out, even as Snow the Glaceon blasted a stream of ice vapor from its mouth to meet its opponent in midair. Leaf had seen it coming, however. Just before the Icy Wind would have connected, it twisted to the side, skidding to the ground a few yards off. Within seconds, it had pounced on its opponent, and the two were rolling on the ground in a maelstrom of flying fur, furious yowls rending the air.

"All right, Leaf! Get in there and give it all you got!" shouted an excited Markus, looking more upbeat than he had in a while. The crowd's cheering amplified as individual members of the audience began taking sides and rooting for one or the other of the fiercely battling Pokemon, a new burst of sound erupting whenever one seemed to be gaining the upper hand. Kane joined in, shouting, "And it's advantage Leafeon! Glaceon! Leafeon! Glaceon!..."

Across the battlefield, Alex frowned. Markus' confidence had not been lost on her, and she was keenly aware that only quick action would prevent the momentum slipping away from her side. "Ice Beam!" she commanded, having to shout to make herself heard over the ongoing catfight and the cheering crowd.

A shrieking crash of ice rent the air, and Leaf was flung backwards twenty feet by a relentlessly powerful beam of frigid indigo ice crystals, the beam burning a frigid scorch mark into the grass as its trajectory continued. The Pokemon toppled over and regained its footing with difficulty, panting. Markus winced at his last competitor's state--large patches of its fur were encased in slick, clear ice, and its breath formed clouds of frost.

"Oh, and Snow breaks away with one mightily impressive Ice Beam! With that kind of power behind a type advantage, Leaf is going to be hard-pressed to recover…aargh! Sun's in my eyes."

Noting what Kane had said, Markus glanced over his shoulder towards where the sun was just beginning to sink from its noonday position. An idea came to him and he frowned for a moment, lost in thought. Soon, however, the familiar gleam of inspiration entered his eyes.

Calling his Pokemon over with a wave of his hand, Markus muttered a few quick instructions to it, then straightened to face his opponent. "All right, Alex, that was your last lucky shot. This battle is all mine from here on out!"

He snapped his fingers crisply, galvanizing Leaf into action. The shiny Leafeon bounded around the perimeter of the stadium, constantly staying just out of the reach of its opponent.

Alex, however, was hardly going to let Markus get away with his plan completely unopposed. "Snow, trap it with a Blizzard!"

Her Glaceon's eyes glowed a sparkling cerulean, and it crouched, summoning a snowstorm out of thin air. A blast of snow and ice crystals raced across the stadium, frosting the grass and buffeting the spectators—Maecenas was exceedingly grateful for his ski cap and waterproof shirt, and was glad Mycroft hadn't been there to get his suit drenched yet again.

Ironically, the Blizzard's intended target was nearly the only one who escaped it. Leaf scampered away as quickly as it could, wind tearing at its fur, and screeched to a halt mere inches out of range. Markus nodded approvingly and brushed the snow out of his hair.

"All right, now keep it going!" he shouted. Leaf whirled and rushed towards its opponent, a cloak of sparkling, prismatic light beginning to surround it.

Alex, a look of understanding crossing her face, turned to her Glaceon and nodded. Understanding her command perfectly, the Ice-type began a Hail attack. Slate-gray clouds manifested themselves in the previously sunny sky, and a chill wind blew through the arena.

The hailstorm kicked in fully at precisely the right moment. As Leaf approached and jumped into the air to launch a full-power SolarBeam, chunks of ice began pelting the ground.

With those critical last amounts of solar energy not collected, the SolarBeam's power was reduced considerably. Searing yellow beams of energy blasted from Leaf's mouth for a direct hit on Snow, but the Pokemon shook them off with little effort.

"And—ow!—what would have been a devast—ow—devastating attack from Leaf there was—aargh!—completely thwarted by the hail—oh for—_does anyone have an umbrella, darn it?!?_" said Kane, abbreviated no small amount by the weather pelting down on him. With a sigh, he unsheathed his sword and started using it to bat away the incoming hailstones, even slicing a few in half in midair.

"Ha! How do you like that?" Alex taunted, grinning as her Glaceon began pursuing Leaf around the arena. "We stopped you in your tracks!"

However, Markus was grinning as well. "Just fine, really," he said breezily. "Y'see, the SolarBeam was actually a distraction. The real object of gathering all of that sun power was to—ow--use Synthesis and heal from the Ice Beam you hit us with earlier, and we accomplished that before the hailstorm started. Not that—ow!—we aren't grateful for whatever damage the SolarBeam was able to deal, too!"

Alex gritted her teeth in frustration. "It doesn't matter if you healed or not. We'll knock you right back down again!"

"All right, now Dig!" The commanding shout came from both Trainers at once. Alex and Markus looked at each other in surprise, but their Pokemon had already leapt into action. Soil flew as Leaf and Snow rapidly clawed themselves into the ground, disappearing in seconds and leaving only two huge, conical mounds of upturned earth like gigantic anthills. The hailstorm continued, now only affecting the humans remaining above ground.

Kane was in his element, slashing and dodging so quickly and accurately that hardly a hailstone got near him. His wildly flailing sword had caused the spectators to back up further, although with both Pokemon underground it made little difference how well they could see the field. Suddenly remembering his commentary, he continued without a pause in the swordplay: "Both Leafeon and Glaceon have burrowed underground, and it looks like we're into the final stage of the battle! It's gonna be epic, folks, and of course, the catch is we can only guess at what'll be happening until they surface! Both Trainers' skill will be tested in the extreme here. So come on, Alex!...oh, right. No favoritism. Well, Go Markus too."

"Sunny Day!" Markus shouted, a split second before his girlfriend's call of "Ice Beam!"

The spectators sighed in relief as the clouds broke up and the sunlight intensified, bathing them all in golden warmth. Kane sheathed his sword with regret.

Somewhere below ground, meanwhile, the trademark screech of an Ice Beam launch sounded, echoing up through the tunnels. Markus frowned, unable to tell if the attack had connected with his Leafeon or not.

"More impressive prediction at work there," Maecenas commented, leaning forward to get a better look at the battlefield. "Of course, he knew he'd have to get rid of the Hail eventually, but I'm sure that put a dent in the Ice Beam as well."

"That's if the Ice Beam hit at all," Selphy pointed out. "It's impossible to tell, really…"

Back in the arena, it appeared that the two Pokemon had met underground and were battling without waiting for a command. A flurry of leaves flew out of one of the tunnels, followed by an equal number of Ice Shards that intercepted them in midair and knocked them to the ground. Various cries and snarls reverberated in the waiting air, sometimes the Glaceon's high, thin voice, and sometimes in the Leafeon's furry trill.

Markus was thinking hard again, rubbing his chin and pulling at his scarf nervously. Then all at once he straightened and called two words as loud as he could, two words that hung in the still air.

"_**Last Resort!"**_

In a flash of blinding light the ground exploded, sending huge plates of earth whizzing dangerously through the air. Both Pokemon were flung into the air with the explosion and tossed to the ground.

"Oh, what a shot! What a _shot! _Absolutely definitive move from Markus there. Glaceon's going to be hard-pressed to…WHOA!"

Kane had, it was clear, been wrong. A Blizzard attack more titanic than anyone could ever remember burst from the Glaceon, snow and icy winds howling. Leafeon stood in the attack's path like a Stantler in the headlights, rooted to the spot.

"Protect!" Markus screamed in desperation. Milliseconds before the Blizzard engulfed Leafeon, a turquoise sphere of energy surrounded the Verdant Pokemon, shielding it from the ice storm. Markus breathed a sigh of relief, but remained tense. From his vantage point he could see that his Pokemon was looking severely damaged by the fight, and he knew it couldn't hold on much longer. His chances of victory were slim…

And then the unthinkable happened.

Its paws moving blindingly fast, Leaf began to run inside the Protect like a hamster in a wheel, soon gaining enough momentum to begin moving forward against the Blizzard. Leaf's speed grew steadily, and in seconds it had crashed into its opponent, sending it flying.

Snow got to its feet unsteadily, shook its head, and fainted.

***

Kane was beyond commentary. "OH MY GOSH! OH MY GOSH! OH MY…"

Markus cheered in exhilaration, and his Leafeon jumped into his arms. "_Yes! _We did it!"

Alex's angry expression lasted for only a few seconds before giving way to a grin. "I was _not _expecting that! Well, great job, Markus. And don't think you stand a chance of beating me again!" The two shook hands and then embraced.

Sevvy, her face lit up in excitement, released her Granbull, and the two ran over to Alex and Markus, both smelling the interview of the century in the making.

Back among the spectators, Maecenas shook his head in disbelief. "Man, that was…that was something else. This is the big leagues, all right! Talk about epic!"

"Talk about epic, indeed." Maecenas turned to find Megan Rayme standing behind him, her eyes sparkling.

"It's kind of a shame not to be out there battling myself, though," she continued. "It's getting a bit late to start a battle today, but would you be interested in a practice battle with yours truly tomorrow at, say, ten?"

Maecenas went red in the face. "Wow. Well, if you want to…I mean, you're such a great Trainer—I'm not sure if I'd stand a chance. But I'd be happy to try!"

"All right, then! Be there!" Megan dashed off, her ponytail bouncing as she ran.

Maecenas blinked a few times, then held out his Torterra's Pokѐball. "I hope you're ready for this," he muttered.

The spectators began to disperse, calling congratulations to Markus as they went. As one battle reached its conclusion, however, others were just beginning to heat up across the length and breadth of Pokѐtopia.

**Well, Alex vs. Markus has finally reached its epic conclusion! Since it was my first battle, I tried to give it a suitably fantastic ending. Hope it didn't disappoint!**

**Seeing as I want the finale to the practice battle trilogy to be as amazing as possible, I've decided to go all "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" and split it into a sub-trilogy. Thus "Third Charms"—each of chapters 8-10 is a **_**third **_**of the finale (although the title has a few other meanings, as well). This was the conclusion of Part One, and you can expect Alex vs. Xavier to be up next!**

**I want to apologize again for making you all wait so long for the new chapter. Hopefully as Christmas vacation approaches I'll have a bit more time to write. Hopefully you'll forgive me?**

**Next up, a few very important pieces of news: I'm now offering my beta-reading services to the FanFiction community and you old Pok****ѐ****topia**** lags in particular. If you'd like me to edit one of your stories, feel free to PM and I'll get right on it!**

**Also, this marks the publication of my second story: Jason Williams and the Olympians: The Rising Stars, an original Percy Jackson fan fiction. Percy Jackson stories can be neglected when they're new, so I'm especially anxious for you to read it and let me know what you think (even if you don't know the series)! It's been really fun to work on thus far, and I'm experimenting with something of a different writing style (first-person perspective, for one thing).**

**And now the credits:**

**-Rhea—gamings-reminiscence **

**-Alex and Markus—Legendary Fairy**

**-Kane—KK the Prophet**

**-Maecenas—Yours Truly**

**-Selphy—DevoTheMadCashCow**

**-Sevvy—kyuuketsuki fang**

**-Megan—Fire Drastar**

**Well, that's it for now! Merry Christmas ahead of time, be sure to check out Jason Williams, and see you all for Part 2 of Third Charms!**

**Maecenas out.**

**P.S. Out of curiosity, what was the best meal you've ever eaten, restaurant or otherwise? You don't need to specify the location, just what all the food served was. I'll reveal mine next chapter.**


	9. Chapter 9: Third Charms, Part Two

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but Maecenas, Mycroft and the plot. We now present Third Charms: Part Two.**

_**CRASH!**_

As Alexandria de la Roche's loyal Aggron lashed out with its tail and sent Xavier's Umbreon flying across the courtyard once more, its owner was having trouble suppressing a smile. Alex just couldn't believe it all—the tournament hadn't even started and here she was now, battling a top Trainer in the heart of Pokѐtopia! As she thought back to where she'd been a mere week ago, her grin deepened considerably. It had been another peaceful day working at the breeding ranch back in Johto with her brother Isaiah. Well, not entirely peaceful, she corrected herself—that had been the time they'd experimented with a new blend of Pokemon food that had turned out to be such a success that the two of them had been mobbed as soon as they'd set foot outdoors with it. They'd sorted out that fiasco eventually, as usual, and the day had ended with the two of them watching a flock of Pelipper soaring overhead on their way to Hoenn against the backdrop of a magnificent sunset.

If anyone had told her then where she would be in a mere seven days, Alex thought, she wouldn't have believed them for a second. Sure, she'd been in Pokemon Leagues and plenty of other prestigious competitions before, but Pokѐtopia somehow felt…different. Special. And just so totally dazzling and over-the-top that you couldn't believe you were really there. And yet, here she was…

_WHAM!_

The sound of another Iron Tail from Aron hitting its target snapped Alex back to reality, alerting her once more to the warmth of the sun above her, the gleam and faint creaking noise of Aron's scales as it reared back in triumph, and a stricken-looking Xavier facing her. A nostalgic smile still playing around her lips, Alex pushed her square glasses back into place, then nodded at Aron to indicate it should continue the offensive. Ever since she'd managed to manipulate Xavier's radio to play only heavy metal, her Aggron had been absolutely _pummeling _its considerably smaller opponent. As a defensive type mainly known for stealth tactics, the opposing Umbreon had been totally overwhelmed by the relentless onslaught.

A crisp breeze sailed through the courtyard, bringing the tantalizing tang of victory back to Alex with it. "Ready to surrender yet, Xavier?" she sang out, somewhat more loudly than normal in order to make herself heard over the music (her Aggron appeared to be thumping its tail on the ground in time, making the pavement shake).

"You wish!" Xavier roared back, a manic glint lighting up his emerald eyes. "This is just begin---YAAARGHHH!" The Trainer from Mossdeep was forced to cut his retort short and dodge frantically to one side as his own Pokemon sailed clean past him into the air.

Several stories above the courtyard, a meeting of Pokѐtopia Justice Services was interrupted by the Moonlight Pokemon suddenly and unceremoniously slamming right into the window. All of the members of the law firm stared blankly as it slid slowly down the glass, its paws making a drawn-out squeaking noise, landed awkwardly on the window ledge, shook itself thoroughly, and then jumped back into the battle below with a snarl. The senior partner looked suspiciously at his mug of coffee and pushed it away, but decided to say nothing.

About five minutes after this incident, Aron managed to wear out its opponent's defenses completely, and with a well-placed Head Smash at full power, and Xavier's Umbreon collapsed in an unconscious heap at his feet. Alex gave a hearty but inaudible cheer as Iron Lombre slammed their way through the explosive final chorus on Xavier's radio and her Aggron bellowed in triumph, leaving quite a few echoes ringing through the suddenly still courtyard as all three sounds ended more or less simultaneously.

Xavier abruptly collapsed to his knees. Picking up his Umbreon, he gave it a consoling scratch behind the ears before recalling it to its Pokѐball. Clambering back to his feet, he shook his head in amazed disbelief.

"That…that was a total _rout, _darn you, Alex! A _slaughter!_ Th—this isn't over yet, though!" he spluttered, looking like he had no real idea what had just happened. He pulled his radio out and, to his obvious relief, managed to regain control of its function, settling on a very motivational-sounding tune that Alex suspected he would need before too much time had gone by.

"You're right, Xavier!" she called tauntingly back to him. "But I suspect that it _will _be over in the next two minutes and forty-seven seconds or so…"

"_Right," _Xavier snarled, grabbing a Pokѐball from his belt and hurling it as hard as he could into the arena.

Alex tossed her head nonchalantly and recalled Aron, seizing her Kirlia's Pokѐball with a plan to modify Xavier's music again, then follow up with a surprise attack from the heavily damaged Rose and return to Aron to clean up.

The burst of light from Xavier's Pokѐball cleared, and Alex let Kirls' Pokѐball fall from her hand, where it clattered to the ground without opening. Before her stood a fully-grown Scizor.

It could have been the very creature that appeared constantly in Alex's nightmares: a cruelly efficient, passionless gaze, lethal-looking sharp points jutting from every surface of a polished crimson body, an ominous buzzing coming from translucent wings making the otherwise humanoid figure horribly insect-like and, worst of all, two gigantic claws opening and closing with sinister precision, claws that could do horrendous damage to anything they encountered.

Alex understood with chilling certainty that Xavier had done the one thing to turn the tide in his favor: unleashing the one Pokemon Alex truly feared. The frozen rational side of her brain told her that her undamaged Aggron would stand an excellent chance against it, but for the moment she couldn't move a single muscle.

_No, I'm not going to let myself be weak like this! Especially not here and now, before the tournament even starts! Pull it together, Alex…_with effort, she grabbed Kirls' Pokѐball from the ground and threw a new one into the arena, the irrational terror already beginning to abate somewhat.

Until a very battered-looking Roserade emerged from the ball, took one look at its opponent and fainted. Alex had grabbed the wrong Pokѐball, and now one of her favorite Pokemon was lying defenseless in the path of the brutal predator!

A highly refined, super-intelligent predator that was now flying right at her.

The surroundings and details may have been different, but to Alexandria de la Roche the situation was an exact mirror of the Scizor attack she had endured years ago, the one that had given her the small scar under her right eye and the one that had fueled her paranoia of the Scissors Pokemon ever since. Time slowed down and then concentrated into one excruciating second.

Oddly enough, instead of being paralyzed as she usually was, this time Alex found the reverse happening to her. As the Scizor dive-bombed her and then swooped backwards to Xavier, she stumbled backwards and fell, still in slow-motion, to the ground.

Alex's glasses clattered to the cement next to her, but now she was powerless to pick them up. Her body froze again, waiting for the sting of those dreaded claws. In the background somewhere, she could fuzzily almost-hear Xavier gloating—she supposed he had a right to; knocking out an opponent without even attacking it had to be some kind of record. With increased horror, she realized that she had left Rose completely defenseless, but there was nothing she could do about it. Nothing.

Nothing

Nothing

Nothing

Nothing

The next thing Alex was conscious of was of someone shaking her by the shoulder. "Whoa…Alex, are you okay? Wha…I…say something…" It was a very unnerved-sounding Xavier. Groggily, she opened her eyes, then sat up and reached for her glasses, which had sustained something of a scratch on one lens from their fall. Xavier appeared to have recalled his Scizor; the courtyard was completely empty except for the two of them and Rose, who had recovered and was looking at Alex with concern.

She felt her face go red. "I am _so _sorry about that, Xavier. I have this thing about Scizor ever since…when I was really young, this swarm of them attacked me. Usually I can get over it pretty quickly, but when it just rushed me like that…"

He looked stricken. "Then I guess I should be the one apologizing here. My Scizor's pretty harmless. He was just being mischievous there—I had _no _idea about the Scizor thing." He sighed. "I guess the win goes to you then—if it wasn't for that you would have won. Unfair advantage."

"No way! It's my fault I have this weakness to Scizor, and it's my fault that I couldn't deal with it. It would have been a legitimate win if you hadn't called it off. If I can't face my weaknesses, how am I going to get anywhere?"

Xavier frowned, thinking about this. "I guess there's no way to tell for sure…tell you what. If we're both going to keep on being all noble like this, why don't we just call it a draw due to circumstances? This was just practice anyway."

"Well…" Alex debated with herself, then saw Rose nodding in assent. "I guess I could live with that."

"All right! Shake on it." Xavier gripped her hand enthusiastically, an excited grin back on his face. "You sure showed _me _a thing or two before I sent Scizor out. I thought I'd seen every way to get around my music strategies, but…whoa! I still can't get over that. How did you think of it in the middle of a battle?"

Alex laughed. "I have _absolutely no idea._"

The two walked companionably out of the courtyard and into the sunset, laughing and talking like old friends, the only evidence of their conflict lying in the burn marks that still littered the battlefield behind them and in Pokѐtopia Justice Services rather nervously leaving the building another way.

--Several hours earlier that afternoon—

An eighteen-year-old Trainer named Sebastian Carreon clambered onto one of the docks in Pokѐtopia Harbor with a sigh of relief. He'd been swimming on his own power for nearly half of the journey, relying on his Altaria to carry him only when he was too tired for another stroke. _What better way to get pumped up for a tournament of this caliber than by getting some serious exercise? _Bastian told himself, running a hand through his dark hair and throwing his usual black-and-gold clothing ensemble on over his swimsuit. _But now…oh my gosh, I could eat a Rapidash._ With these thoughts in mind, the trainer from Sunyshore City strolled towards the main gate to the city in search of a good restaurant, attracting plenty of odd looks from the people milling around the gate due to his weatherbeaten appearance and the fact that he'd suddenly leapt out of the ocean like one of the legendary People of the Water. However, he hadn't even gotten off the dock before he heard someone shouting his name.

Bastian frowned. He was a decent Trainer, sure, but not famous or anything. Who would be…

The next minute, every last thought was blasted from his mind as Rhea Abucayan threw her arms around him. His normally tan face turned a violent shade of burgundy, and he couldn't even manage to splutter incoherently. Rhea, however, was much more talkative.

"BASTIAN! I had no idea you were going to be here! This is awesome!" She pulled back from the embrace and looked at him brightly. "Already this looks like the best tournament ever. I just hope you can take losing to me…._again._"

Bastian winced, but the slight had allowed him to regain control of himself. "Good to see you too, Rhea. Still turning the world upside down out there?"

The two old friends hadn't seen each other in nearly a year, so Rhea was full of news about all of her journeys. Bastian tried to respond intelligently, and mentioned his recent trip to Johto, but found it difficult to keep his eyes off her for more than three seconds. Eventually Rhea glanced at her watch with a look of alarm.

"Oh my gosh, I told someone I'd meet them for a practice battle five minutes ago! See you around, umm….meet me at Main Street Colosseum at three? See you then!" she ran off with her usual unbelievable speed.

Bastian stared after her, lost in thought, until one of his Pokѐballs opened of its own accord. An entire full-grown Mamoswine on the dock didn't leave much room for anything else, so its Trainer was unceremoniously hurled into the water.

"MAMMOTH!" Bastian yelled, clambering back onto the dock and fixing his Pokemon, which was pretending to be asleep, with an icy glare. "Do we have to go through all this again? If I have a…a crush on Rhea, that's none of your concern!"

His Pokemon's only response was a heavy, rumbling snore. Sighing in exasperation, Sebastian chucked Mammoth's Pokѐball at it with all the force he could muster, recalling it in a blaze of light.

Muttering something that sounded like "With friends like these, who needs enemies?" Sebastian Carreon wrung out his now-soaked jacket, allowed himself one more roll of the eyes, and headed off in search of lunch.

***

"Hmm," said Mycroft Williamson with mild interest. Judging by his tone and generally unruffled appearance, he could have been playing a chess game or ordering a cut of his beloved filet mignon, rather than in the actual scenario in which he currently found himself. His shiny Metagross, Carnegie, had just crashed to the ground in a half-ton heap a mere three inches away from his right hand, still sizzling with intense heat from the four consecutive Fire Punches it had just sustained from its opponent, Varacei's Ragnarok. An easterly wind blew through the makeshift arena, sending a small cloud of steam hissing from Carnegie's inert form and ruffling Mycroft's suit coat. With a steely groan, the Iron Leg Pokemon heaved itself to its feet and flew back into the air to face its rival, who was currently circling around silently about ten feet off the ground like an ominous flying saucer.

"I will freely admit, you have just taken me by surprise," Mycroft called across the field. "I had not realized that your Metagross possessed such a degree of finesse. I believe some—granted, temporary—congratulations are in order.

"So how do I respond to this?" Mycroft asked himself, muttering rapidly under his breath and sketching calculations in midair with the single, manicured tip of a finger.

On the other side of the field, Varacei was concentrating just as heavily, his fists clenched to an almost painful degree and his mismatched eyes intent on the two mechanical behemoths facing each other before him. Admittedly, he hadn't had much reason to worry thus far. He'd gotten off to a fairly good start, and then his Metagross, in a moment of ludicrous good fortune, had somehow managed to land a Fire Punch with all four of its limbs at once. However, Varacei was hardly about to underestimate Mycroft. He could tell at a glance how intelligent his opponent was, and knew it was only a matter of time before he made his move.

Ferk was shouting something in a ham dramatic voice, clearly enjoying his role as the announcer, but Varacei barely heard him. Mycroft appeared to have come to some sort of conclusion, and he didn't want to miss a crucial moment.

"Carnegie, use Zen Headbutt!" the formally dressed Trainer called, enunciating the sentence oddly. His Pokemon turned to face him for a brief moment and nodded, then whizzed back into the air, a distortion of psychic energy already building around it.

"WHAT?!?" was Varacei's flabbergasted reaction. As a Steel and Psychic type, Ragnarok was doubly resistant to Psychic attacks, and this in combination with its stellar defense meant it would barely even feel the attack. After all that consideration, Mycroft _had _to have realized that! How on Earth could he _not?!?_ Varacei asked himself. The tall Trainer's charisma and manner of speaking had made him seem like a genius, but perhaps, he reflected, he'd been wrong about that. Maybe Mycroft was simply weird.

Carnegie soared through the air with a determined expression etched into its iron features, heading for the collision. "And…an unusual decision on part of…_Mycroft, WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING?!?"_ Ferk screamed, mirroring Varacei's sentiments. Time seemed to slow down before the two behemoths slammed together in a burst of telekinetic sparks.

_**CRASH!**_

**And we end on another cliffhanger! I was going to write just a little further to show you what Mycroft's plan was exactly, but the idea of beginning and ending with the same crash appealed to me. You'll have to wait for the next installment, in which our own little "Clash of the Titans" will be resolved (it may well be better than the movie, if admittedly on a much lower budget and involving Metagross instead of Zeus) and four more members of Varacei and Mycroft's respective teams will duke it out! We'll also throw in something of a plot twist to shake the mix up a bit…**

**Startix, I know that Varacei prefers to be called Urya, but Mycroft will have to beat him in order to use that nickname. Well, that and I prefer "Varacei," but I will switch it after a while. Hopefully next chapter I'll get to show off his strategies a bit more, as well as Mycroft's!**

**Nellchan, LastPrelude, and the rest of you, I hope you all enjoyed the finale of Xavier and Alex's battle. Perhaps it's just a little cheap to end it in a draw like that, but it avoids having either of them lose (they're both favorites of mine) and sets up Alex's fear of Scizor. And presumably having Aron whack around Umbreon at the beginning made up for it…for Nellchan, that is.**

**I'd like to extend a welcome to all of my new readers, particularly Friend X, the author of Bastian and my harshest constructive critic. All those of you who put my story on alert, etc, recently, hey y'all; I hope to see more of you soon!**

**I'm afraid this may be the last you hear of me for two or three weeks. I'm about to enter one of the busiest times of my life, which will most likely restrict me to random PM-ing and so on. You can wish me luck for an upcoming speech competition and the opening of the musical I'm in, though! Come May, I'll be back in force, I promise.**

**And how about Pokemon Black and White? I can't believe the urban setting! Or the heroes' hair!**

**Character credits:**

** Xavier—LastPrelude**

** Bastian—Friend X**

** Alex—nellchan0013**

** Rhea—gamings-reminiscence**

** Varacei—Startix and so on**

** Mycroft—Yours Truly**

** Ferk—SilentlySnowing**

**Well, only one more third of Third Charms to go! Enjoy the ride…whenever it arrives! **

**Maecenas out.**


	10. Chapter 10: Third Charms, Part Three

Disclaimer: I do not own the Pokemon franchise or any of the characters featured in this story save for those of Maecenas Octavian and Mycroft Williamson. The name "The Welzz" was originally created by Brian Jacques, as a fan I have merely borrowed it for Mycroft's Whiscash.

**(Long Author's Notes to follow)**

**Finally and at long last, I have returned! I cannot apologize enough for how frightfully lax I've been with updating this story lately. As usual I do have reasons, though, the most outstanding of which are as follows:**

**Forensics tournament (many awards received, team in top 5%)**

**Musical: "Annie Get Your Gun" (relatively major role, opened to good success)**

**Two weeks of prestigious Writers' Studio (at least my writing, if late, will perhaps now be of higher quality)**

**All 736+ back numbers of "The Order of the Stick" (Best. Webcomic. EVER.)**

**General summer-type things**

**Food: new recipes to try, plus pizza**

**Bad spate of writers' block due to letdown from aforementioned awesome writers' studio**

**Long cruise vacation to various European countries**

**Bad cold**

**Soul of a procrastinator**

**So, I guess I was supposed to deliver this chapter by MAY, huh? Well, it's true that I didn't specify the year, so just regard me as being ten months early. Or not even that much, now, is it? And to make up for things, Third Charms: Part Three is the longest and most epic Pokѐtopia chapter yet. It's at least twice the length of any other chapter, important plot elements will be introduced, fierce battles will be waged, and in general this is the "hinge" chapter that begins broadening GotH into a more expansive work. Note: you don't have to read this in one sitting. It is kinda huge.**

**To recap the Practice Battle Trilogy: **

**Chapter 6: Opposite Attractions**

**Chapter 7: Double Visions**

**Chapter 8: Third Charms Part 1**

**Chapter 9: Third Charms Part 2**

**And today, the finale of Third Charms! Enjoy, and welcome back!**

Varacei Alger, more commonly known to his friends as "Urya," was doubled over in helpless spasms of laughter, for the moment unable to speak or do anything but give further vent to his relieved mirth. Above and in front of him, the two Metagross were still locked into the position of collision caused by Carnegie's Zen Headbutt moments earlier. Across the field, Mycroft was immobile save for a slightly worried-looking but still highly composed frown and the slight motion of his coat blowing in the wind.

_"Well…_for reasons most likely best known to himself, Mycroft has, as far as I can tell, deliberately ordered a nearly ineffectual attack on Varacei's Ragnarok. We will, of course, have to see if there's a deeper motivation behind that or not…" Ferk looked about as confused as Varacei felt.

"A quite simple one, actually." Mycroft's spectacles caught the sunlight and suddenly shone pure gold; a grin of absolute mischief spread across his carefully composed features. "You see, I don't mind admitting that the frontal attack—lackluster as I must confess it was—served as a diversion. Order your Pokemon to move, would you?"

Varacei, who was struggling against the unpleasant sensation that the ground had recently fallen out from under him, complied with a hesitant shout of "Ragnarok, get out of there!"

However, all that followed his command was a roar of frustration from his Pokemon overlapping with a truly horrible screech of metal on metal that echoed out over the ocean long after the initial sound had died down. In an instant, Varacei saw the reason why: Carnegie's monolithic front limbs had locked firmly onto its opponent's side, keeping the burlier Metagross stuck where it was in midair. Ragnarok, whose face was only centimeters away from Carnegie's, wore an expression of pure malice, its ruby-red eyes seething with impotent rage, while in the face of this furious display Mycroft's Pokemon exhibited a look of mild academic interest much like that of its Trainer, who continued to calmly discourse on the exact details of his plan.

"While you were all pondering the absurdity of my latest command, and while Ragnarok was concentrated on repulsing that assault, Carnegie devoted most of its energy to holding Ragnarok in place. Once that connection was established, it remained only for the species' particular blend of psychokinesis and brute strength to keep it that way—an enviable position, as I'm sure you're aware. Carnegie, if you would?"

Mycroft had distinguished this last sentence from the rest of his speech only with a casual flick of his right hand, but the effect of this gesture on his airborne partner was much more dramatic. With a roar of exertion rivaling any of Ragnarok's bellows, Carnegie flipped its opponent around in midair and then hurled it like a half-ton discus. Ragnarok whizzed dangerously across the field in excess of 120 miles per hour, becoming little more than a blur of spinning steel, then hit the ground, skipped back into the air in a shower of gravel and salty earth, then crashed back down, rolled across the ground and came to an eventual halt about ten feet from the edge of the ocean cliff in front of which Varacei was standing, leaving an impressive trench ploughed deep into the terrain.

"And yeah, we've practiced that," Mycroft finished, for the first time in that battle dropping his debonair exterior and looking like he was having the time of his life.

Varacei's jaw dropped, and stayed that way.

Ferk, meanwhile, seemed to be trying to restrain himself from openly applauding. _"Well!" _he managed after a few seconds. "That was some truly impressive combo work going on there. It's a day of impossibilities, folks! First a move like _that _gets pulled off on the fly, and then on top of that Mycroft actually uses a colloquialism! It's plain enough to see that there's a lot more going on today than meets the eye…"

"You do me an injustice," said Mycroft with a mischievous grin, somehow managing to look more and less like a normal young adult than ever at the same time. "Some people in my social circle don't even deign to use contractions."

His breath heavy and ragged from shock and his heart pounding like a runaway Exploud in a bad mood, Varacei dashed over to his fallen Metagross, which was struggling to free itself from where it had been forcibly planted into the ground. Upon seeing its Trainer, Ragnarok adopted a slightly sheepish expression and finally managed to wrench itself loose, then remained in place where it had fallen, its four limbs sprawled and a disorientated look on its metallic features.

"We are _not _going to just let him get away with this," Varacei told his Pokemon through gritted teeth, the Ho-oh pendant he always wore around his neck tightly clenched in one hand. "Let's see….what can we…."

He snapped his fingers as an idea suddenly came to him. After a few more seconds of thought, Varacei nodded enthusiastically to himself, then stared directly into Ragnarok's eyes, the green and gold meeting bright red with piercing intensity.

"Okay, go." With that, Ragnarok was up and away, soaring back into the air with its eyes locked on Mycroft and Carnegie far below.

Next to the slimmer Metagross, Mycroft looked up at his opponents with interest, pulling the brim of his top hat forward to shade his eyes. "Ah, communicating by telepathy with your Pokemon now, are you not? Most impressive; no doubt I'll have to…_GREAT GYARADOS!"_

Ragnarok interrupted Mycroft by plunging suddenly to the ground, slamming all four of its clawed arms into the ground at full force, and unleashing a massive Earthquake, its fanged mouth open to its fullest extent in a triumphant roar. The impact of the attack was centered directly on the trench that Ragnarok had torn into the ground with its landing mere minutes earlier, which exploded with a resounding _crack, _sending clouds of dust and clods of turf flying into the air as the Earthquake continued, finally crashing into Carnegie and sending it reeling.

Mycroft, who'd leapt into a defensive stance and thrown his hands in front of his face as the attack began, returned shakily to his feet as the dust cleared. "…._stay on my toes_," he finished his previous sentence at a mumble. His Pokemon, he could see, had taken a solid hit but remained standing. Ferk was standing near where the epicenter of the Earthquake had been, looking slightly shell-shocked in the same fashion as he had after the battle of the banquet but still mouthing "_that was totally wicked_." The battlefield had been divided neatly in half by what was now an impressive trench in the ground, across from which Varacei was regarding him with a look of defiant triumph. And most disturbingly of all, Ragnarok had vanished altogether.

The Trainer from Lilycove frowned and began brushing the dust and debris from his suit. He knew a true challenge when he saw one, and he also knew that he would be in for many more such surprises before the battle was over.

* * *

The nearly cloudless indigo sky shimmered with silent heat as the Trainer stepped out onto the concrete of Pokѐtopia's dock area with a brisk, decisive gait and paused for a few moments to scan the area. There was a teenage boy yelling at a Mamoswine out on one of the piers, a group of teenage girls were laughing and chatting to the Trainer's left, and a few sailors and civilians were milling about, but overall the waterfront was deserted. Most anyone who was anyone was in the main city, preparing for the tournament. For a moment the Trainer wondered just why [she/he] was not also engaged in a practice battle, but quickly banished the thought, reminding [himself/herself] of the extreme importance of [her/his] appointment.

With a brief, satisfied nod, the Trainer began walking again, crossing the waterfront in an efficient, diagonal path and ending up in the shadow of one of Pokѐtopia's skyline buildings a minute later. The colossal Toxicroak, gripping an office building in one ominous claw as always, seemed to leer down at the Trainer as [he/she] made [her/his] way over to where the second claw formed an escalator. With a barely perceptible nervous exhalation, the Trainer pulled a scrap of paper out of [his/her] pocket and entered the code hastily scrawled on it onto a waiting keyboard nearby.

With a hiss, the escalator efficiently returned to life and began moving once more, carrying the Trainer up the brute's left arm silently as [she/he] continued to stare straight ahead. Seconds later, the Trainer stepped off onto a landing where the escalator branched into two paths: one leading into the Toxicroak building itself, the other to the building held in its clutches. The Trainer took the second escalator.

Though now suspended at a truly dizzying height above the unforgiving concrete of the dock below, the Trainer stared straight ahead, unperturbed, at the door that [he/she] was slowly moving towards, as calmly as if [she/he] was on a terrestrial walkway, and with a gaze intense and steady enough that it seemed surprising that the door did not simply crumple and vanish under its force. Conscious only of the destination ahead and of the pleasant feel of the sun on [his/her] skin, the Trainer waited until [she/he] had arrived at the door. Steeling [himself/herself], the Trainer raised a lightly shaking fist and knocked in a precise sequence.

There was a pause, followed by a faint clicking noise, and the door swung open. The Trainer was faced with a tall man in a shiny black-and-yellow uniform, most of his facial features hidden by a reflective eyeshade. His resemblance to a lean, predatory wasp was unmistakable.

"_ _?" The man spoke the Trainer's name and again fell silent, without betraying any other sign of relaxing the military precision of his waiting stance. It was impossible to tell whether he was looking at the Trainer or not; he could have been watching a soap opera behind that eyeshade for all the Trainer knew.

Ordinarily the Trainer would've been amused by that thought, but the ominous tone of this encounter stifled any possible comic relief. Responding in kind to the cold efficiency of the uniformed man, the Trainer merely nodded and reached into [her/his] pocket, producing an identification card rendered in the same black and yellow as the man's uniform. Silver letters across the top of the card read simply, "the organization."

The man facing [him/her] took the card in a gloved hand and nodded. "Very well. You will be escorted to a meeting room for further discussion. Now, I hope you will excuse this liberty, but we cannot allow any outsider to ascertain any of the particulars regarding our defenses. Sleep Powder."

The Trainer, who had become suspicious of where the conversation was going a few moments ago, reflexively lunged forward, only to be met by a cloud of blue-green dust fired by the Vileplume that had been hidden in the shadows behind the uniformed man. "Nothing personal, you understand," the man added as the Trainer crumpled into an unconscious heap on the landing before him.

Nodding to himself in satisfaction much as the Trainer [herself/himself] had a mere ten minutes ago when approaching the building, the uniformed man tapped an octagonal device clipped to his belt, which momentarily glowed a dull green. Instantaneously two identically-uniformed men dropped out of the shadows on either side of him, as smoothly and suddenly as if they had simply come into existence from nowhere at that point.

"Everything under control, thirty-seven? Right, we'll take [him/her] from here."

37 held up a hand, then bent down and carefully returned the ID card to the unconscious Trainer's pocket. It was one of precisely three currently active on the island.

The door slid shut in perfect silence, and the giant Toxicroak building continued its unblinking stare out towards the horizon, as if listening to the faint music of the wind.

* * *

"Quite a show-stopper there from our very own VARACEI ALGER! I know from experience that it's, like, _really _hard to think on your feet after Mycroft's executed one of those mind-boggling little schemes of his, so his pulling off that kind of an Earthquake musta really taken guts. Not the kind that involves getting poisoned, mind you, that'd be capital-G Guts. Anyway, that Earthquake was the most crazy awesome thing I've seen since this one time back on the islands last summer when I was, like, in this tournament on Pummelo Island and my Probopass levitated this concession stand into the stadium and used the nacho sauce to…"

"Spare me the cheese-coated details, please," said Mycroft Williamson crisply, strolling across the battlefield with a rather damaged Carnegie floating along in his wake.

"As amusing as I'll admit that story sounds, Ferk"-Mycroft jumped neatly over the chasm in the center of the battlefield without breaking his stride – "I'm preparing my counterattack here, and I cannot multitask to the degree of planning a battle strategy and attempting to comprehend one of your stories at the same time. However, as long as this battle was my idea in the first place, I shall treat yourself and Mr. Alger to dinner after its conclusion by way of thanking you for your time. Feel free to regale me with all of your bizarre snack-related anecdotes then."

"I'm sure there's a reason you're using the plural," Varacei commented. "Mycroft, just _where_ do you think you're going?"

"I hope you'll excuse me." Mycroft had completed his journey across the battlefield and now stood looking thoughtfully out over the cliff, directly across from Varacei. "As I'm sure you know, however, this arena has been suffering from a distinct lack of your Metagross lately. Since Ragnarok is my opponent, I mean to find it, and there's only one good place around here for a Pokemon of its dimensions to hide. I strongly suspect, therefore, that it is concealed somewhere along this cliff, lying in wait for an ambush."

Varacei grinned. "Well, what are you going to do about it? If you send Carnegie down to look for it, it'll fall right into the trap!"

"Yes, well. Fortunately, I have a more efficient means at my disposal to defuse the situation." Mycroft adjusted his spectacles in as dramatic a manner as spectacles could possibly be adjusted. "Carnegie, use Surf on the entire side of the cliff within range."

"_WHA_…um…Metagross can't learn Surf, you know, Mycroft," said Varacei, an uneasy feeling beginning to coalesce in the pit of his stomach as he recalled the last seemingly outrageous statement his friend had made. Meanwhile, Carnegie had turned to its master with a puzzled expression

"Nominally they can't, you're right. There is no possible way for a Metagross to make water appear out of thin air, and anywhere else this strategy would be completely impossible, but with the ocean being so conveniently close to us now"—Carnegie's eyes lit up with sudden understanding—"a little Psychic manipulation will be able to fabricate a Surf attack admirably. Carnegie?"

"NOOOO!" Varacei's scream of horror was eclipsed by another sound that quickly began to gain volume. The normal sound of ocean waves crashing against the base of the cliff suddenly faded to nothing, and an unnerving crackling and splashing noise stole over the atmosphere. Whirling around so quickly that his single Rainbow Wing earring smacked him in the face, Varacei Alger beheld a truly massive tsunami, foaming dark blue saltwater surrounded by a violet sheen of psychic power, slowly swelling up from the ocean below. When the wave had grown to the height of the cliff and its crest was on eye level with Varacei, Mycroft nodded to Carnegie and the wall of water rushed forward.

"Ragnarok, _STOP THAT WAVE!" _It was a command shouted out of sheer desperation and a burning desire on Varacei's part not to let Mycroft control the entire battle, despite the fact that he seemed to be very efficiently doing just that. It was not specifically directed towards any action on Ragnarok's part, and it certainly seemed unlikely to be able to stop the inexorable progress of tons of saltwater. Nonetheless, it worked.

The foremost spray of ocean water paused centimeters from the rock outcropping as the entire tsunami froze in place. A worried look stole onto Mycroft's face in counterpoint with Varacei's relieved grin (Ferk, meanwhile, still looked rather confused). With a tremendous roar, the entire gigantic wave, in all of its thousands of gallons, rose into the air and slowly twisted into a spiral, revolving like a titanic airborne whirlpool as, calmly, majestically, Ragnarok rose from where it had been concealed and hovered directly in front of the mass of water.

Mycroft turned and ran, dashing back to his original place on the battlefield with Carnegie close on his heels, to the accompaniment of an overjoyed shout of "_**GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" **_from Varacei. Ragnarok gave a bone-shattering roar as the entire airborne whirlpool blasted out from behind it, headed straight for Carnegie.

However, the slimmer Metagross clearly had other plans. Carnegie stood its ground in the face of what looked like certain doom, its eyes glowing bright blue, and at the last second the huge bolt of water swerved past it, splattering the Iron Leg Pokémon's steely frame with no more than sixteen water droplets, and as Mycroft flung out an arm in his opponents' direction, the attack suddenly reversed direction and headed back for Ragnarok.

There followed one of the strangest battles Pokѐtopia had ever seen. Two Pokemon combatants, both shiny Metagross, stood completely stationary in front of their Trainers while thousands of gallons of ocean water twisted into one mind-boggling vortex whipped back and forth above the battlefield like some bright blue, megaton New Year's dragon while the two Trainers shouted encouragement and a referee discoursed thoughtfully on what seemed to be a completely unrelated subject.

"So if you just add a twist of oregano it counterbalances the sweetness of the ham and really plays off of the garlic and bacon to make the pizza even better. It's kind of a subtle change, but really makes a lot of difference…you can add a couple of basil leaves too, just make sure you aren't tying to pick a Carnivine by mistake. I remember one time, I think I still have scars from that…"

Ferk was shouting to make himself heard over the wind gusts created by the spinning vortex, but Mycroft still didn't hear him. The top-hatted Trainer was concentrating hard; he knew himself to be in a desperate situation. Ragnarok's strength of mind was stronger than Carnegie's by just a bit, he suspected, and with that would go just the edge in psychic power his opponents would need to finally wear him out and send all that water crashing down on his hopes of victory. It was one of the toughest situations he'd ever been in—he had ventured into completely unknown territory with his makeshift Surf attack, and with only one slight mistake the damage could be horrific, he could just as easily be the victim of what he had started, the rush of the vortex made communication nearly impossible, the pressure was intense, and on top of it all Ferk's chatter was making him hungry. Clearly, it was a time to think outside the box….

No sooner had Mycroft thought this than the solution was there, blazing into his head like a neon sign from Hioun City. He didn't waste a second. Literally holding onto his hat, the Trainer from Lilycove dashed out onto the battlefield and stood as close to Carnegie as he could, to increase his chances of being heard through the chaos.

"Carnegie, use Hyper Beam on that water."

His Pokemon complied. A massive ray of dazzling white energy shot from the Metagross' mouth and slammed into the vortex above them in a shower of sparks. The resulting amalgam of water and pure energy, its momentum doubled by the impact, flew straight as an arrow and, with an almighty explosion, slammed directly into Ragnarok, slamming it forcibly into the dirt and knocking it out instantly.

For a moment all was silence, punctuated only by the sounds of millions of individual rivulets of saltwater running down the cliff back to their rightful places in the sea.

Ferk was the first to speak up. "WHOA! Ragnarok is _un_able to battle, so the winners of the first round are _**Mycroft and Carnegie**_! That was awesome! That was _epic!_"

Varacei patted his fallen Pokemon on the head and recalled it. "Wow…" he was, for the moment, honestly unable to say anything more.

Mycroft chuckled, nearly as surprised as anyone else, and began fanning himself with his top hat. "_Well_…I should say that the first round does indeed go to me." Looking out musingly over the ocean, he was somewhat startled to see blue skies once more. The conditions during the last few minutes of battle had been so stormy; he had completely forgotten that, in reality, the day was a beautiful, sunny one. Mycroft's violet eyes slowly traveled across the torn, scarred, soaked and otherwise generally mistreated battlefield and came to rest on Carnegie, whose condition was rather similar. Clearly, his Metagross was no longer in any shape to battle. With a sigh, Mycroft produced his Pokémon's Timer Ball. "Truly unforgettable battling, Carnegie; I will definitely remember this one," he said, then spun the Timer Ball artfully on the end of one finger, recalling the Iron Leg Pokemon in a blaze of light. "Very well, Varacei, would you care to select your next Pokemon first?" Mycroft called across the field.

Varacei nodded absently, his mind racing. He had been shaken to no small degree by yet another of his plans backfiring in spectacular fashion, and was beginning to wonder if he was any good at competitive battle at all. Mycroft's genius strategies were giving him the uneasy feeling that he was out of his depth, and that his usual tactics would get him nowhere. In short, Varacei Alger was desperate to start the next round on his terms. After a few moments of agonizing hesitation, he finally decided on a Pokѐball and pulled it off of his belt.

"Why don't we throw a few _surprises _into the mix? Go, Jackson!"

A blaze of light appeared over the trench in the middle of the field and quickly resolved itself into a blue-and-white Porygon-Z floating upside down in midair. Jackson surveyed the situation unperturbedly, its head rotating 360 degrees, and then hurriedly flipped itself upright with an electronic beeping sound.

"_Two _shiny Pokemon; are you _serious?" _Ferk was leaning forward on the tips of his feet more like a spectator than a referee, already having whipped an expensive-looking camera out from somewhere or other on his person and begun taking photos rapidly. "Man, you've just _gotta _let me study your team after this is over!"

Mycroft was visibly surprised. "Oh, a second shiny Pokemon, eh? That's most impressive indeed; I only came by Carnegie after a considerable amount of difficulty. Just how _did_ you obtain a shiny Porygon, may I ask?"

Varacei grinned. "Just a lucky day at the Game Corner. I hope you're ready for this guy—he's a real spaz."

At this, Jackson whipped around and fired a crackling energy beam at Varacei, who ducked as if he were highly used to this sort of thing happening. The attack exploded against the edge of the cliff, and Jackson rotated back to its original position with a vaguely annoyed expression, its head levitating a few inches above its body.

Mycroft chuckled. "You aren't kidding, are you? I suppose that means it is time for a secret weapon of my own."

The refined man pulled an ordinary, red-and-white Pokѐball from his belt and stood there contemplating it for a moment, turning the sphere over in his palm and watching the reflected clouds whirl through its circumference. However, it wasn't long before the moment for action had arrived again and the ball sailed over the battlefield.

Mycroft indulged in a bit of a dramatic voice as the explosion of light began to resolve itself. "Welzz, come forth!"

The Pokemon appeared with impeccable timing a split second later. Welzz was a humongous Whiscash, its whiskers curling impressively above its head and its face rendered utterly blank by an expression of pure stupidity that would have made any Magikarp proud.

By this time, however, Varacei was well past the point of being surprised at anything Mycroft said or did. He merely gave a grim nod and ordered Jackson to attack.

Before he'd even completely finished speaking, Jackson launched itself into action, streaking across the battlefield about three feet above the ground to the accompaniment of a sharp _whoosh _of displaced air. Mycroft watched it go worriedly, noting how incredibly organic and unpredictable its movements looked compared to most members of the Porygon family he'd encountered in the past. He'd initially been planning to exploit the garbage-in-garbage-out literalism characteristic to the species for his strategy, but right now it seemed that that course of action would be on par with trying to predict Ferk.

Anticipating the dangers of letting his hard-earned momentum slip away while he overanalyzed the situation—a trap he found himself falling into all too frequently—Mycroft leapt into action. "Welzz, use Hydr…." He trailed off in surprise before finishing the command, looking at Jackson with a perplexed expression.

Mycroft had last observed his opponent's Pokemon still rocketing around the battlefield, what had looked like the beginnings of a Tri Attack crackling its way into existence around it. But for whatever reason, the Virtual Pokemon appeared to have then screeched to a dead halt, its decreasing momentum more or less completing its circuit of the battlefield, and it now hung in midair roughly twenty feet away from the Welzz, its head bowed slightly forward, its form totally inert.

Mycroft exchanged a look with his Whiscash that said something along the lines of _Even for us, this one is going to be __**weird**_, then shot a glance at Varacei. He half-expected to see a look of hastily smothered triumph on the younger Trainer, a hint that this was all part of a plan as elaborate as one of his own, but instead beheld a slightly nervous poker face being swiftly eroded by something that looked a lot like panic.

"All right, then….go ahead with that Hydro Pump, I suppose," Mycroft commanded cautiously, staying on guard for an unexpected change in circumstances.

Within a matter of seconds, the attack that had been instrumental in winning Mycroft infamy in organized battling establishments the world over had been launched. The formerly innocuous-looking Welzz stretched its mouth to its considerable widest extent, anchoring itself to the ground with its fleshy, dark blue fins, and let loose with a focused, intense blast of cold, clear water that seemed a worthy echo of the great torrent from the previous round. In the blink of an eye the attack slammed into Jackson dead-on and knocked it backwards to an almost comical extent.

Varacei spluttered as the wind caught the water droplets thrown into the air by the impact and blew most of them, it seemed, directly into his face. Even without the impromptu cold shower, the Trainer from Lavaridge had been having no small amount of trouble catching his breath of late. It was not the first time that his Porygon-Z had gone completely inactive in the middle of a battle, but Varacei could see with awful clarity that it couldn't have occurred at a worse time for him than now. Infuriatingly, he knew that there was a solution, something or other that he'd done in the past to wake his Pokemon up, but, predictably, it was just eluding him at the moment. Grinding his teeth, Varacei slammed a fist into his palm—he could recall every last detail of his past few battles with Jackson, perfectly, _except _whatever it was he had done when it went into sleep mode.

"_Oh, _and Mycroft and his Whiscash launch a DEVASTATING blow! There's no telling what's stopped Varacei's Porygon-Z in its tracks like that, but this is obviously a golden opportunity for our friend in the tux. Still, frozen opponent or not, this really shows off that fish's marksmanship. That team of two has faced down an illicitly cloned Lugia in the past, and I'm told they didn't come out of that looking too bad, either. Still, there's no underestimating a P-Z and that special attack power they've got behind them and getting away with it…_if _the P-Z can move, that is."

_Shut UP, Ferk, _thought Varacei heatedly, barely repressing himself from shouting out the same sentiment for all to hear. And in as long as it took for that disparaging thought to occur to him, the answer flashed into his mind. How could he possibly have forgotten already, after all the trouble Jackson had given him in their last battle?

"Jackson, _boot up!_"

Varacei let out a hearty cheer of pure relief as his Pokemon abruptly snapped back to attention. The Welzz, growing more confident in its opponent's immobility, had launched a considerably sized Mud Bomb seconds ago, but even as Jackson's yellow eyes snapped open, it fired a timely Ice Beam that shattered the incoming attack only a few inches from impact.

Varacei flicked a few strands of hair away from his face, feeling giddy with relief. It occurred to him that as nerve-wracking as it had been, Jackson's more-bizarre-than-usual inaction would certainly have thrown Mycroft off as well. He hated to be too optimistic, but it seemed that his star was, at last, in the ascendant.

"Tri Attack."

Jackson, to Varacei's incalculable relief, sprang right into action this time, flipping deftly over in midair to avoid an incoming attack from the Welzz even as it began charging for a counterattack of its own. As quickly as the familiar fire-ice-lightning triangle had manifested in front of Jackson's nose, crackling with raw elemental power, it collapsed down to a harshly glowing central point so bright that Varacei, accustomed as he was to this move, had to glance away for a second, his eyes watering. He had just enough time to return his gaze to the battlefield, noting with satisfaction that Mycroft's eyes had widened in surprise at his customized version of Tri Attack, before the powerful, extremely dangerous nucleus of light was launched in a blur, searing its way through the air like a comet and leaving a pulsing afterimage fading behind it.

The Welzz deftly lunged to one side, stretched its mouth open hugely, and swallowed the Tri Attack in mid-flight … then rose several inches into the air, its heavy, meaty-looking body alight with inner fire. Mycroft winced and tugged nervously on a lapel of his suit jacket as his Pokemon glowed first a vibrant red, then a chill, icy shade of light blue. Due to its Electric resistance, the final burst of inner fireworks was diminished considerably and the Welzz collapsed back onto the grass in a heap, its usually magnificently-curled whiskers sticking straight out like lightning rods and its eyes even wider than usual from pure shock.

"And the momentum swings back over to Varacei! It's been one thing after another in this battle, I can tell you, and I wasn't expecting anything like that superpowered Tri Attack – and then Mycroft's Whiscash just going and _swallowing_ it like that. I guess it seems to have dampened down a bit of the damage, and it was certainly quite a sight, but _still_ … that **had** to hurt. Of course, this means Mycroft's probably going to retaliate with something all drastic and awesome – you _knew_ from the moment that the ocean started flying around in the sky that this wasn't gonna be you typical battle – I'm on the edge of my seat, folks!"

"To what 'Folks,' precisely, are you referring, Ferk?" Mycroft asked in a rather absent tone, most of his mind clearly still occupied with strategy. "It's just the three of us here, as I'm sure you've noticed.

"Now, Varacei, you've really kept me guessing on this one; battling your unorthodox Porygon-Z has been an experience. I'm not really sure what course of action I should take from here…how about an Earth Power?"

"_Whoa_, hey now!" Not for the first time, Varacei was thrown off guard by his opponent's very conversational way of issuing commands. Before he could even decide whether to tell his Pokemon to dodge or counter, the Welzz had reared back onto its rear fins with a louder bellow than any fish had a right to and then slammed back down, sending searingly bright orange-golden streaks of energy lacing their way through the ground in a blur.

Paralyzed by the inevitable, Varacei still couldn't hold back a groan as Jackson suffered the direct hit he'd known was coming and went flying back into the grass, its head rolling to a halt about a foot away from its body. Crossing his fingers against the Virtual Pokemon entering another bout of sleep mode, he ran over to where it had fallen.

"_**Why**_ does Porygon-Z not have Levitate? It's always floating, like, a foot above the ground! I mean, it's not like I'm not grateful for Download, but _still_ … how does that even make sense?"

Varacei's stream-of-consciousness complaints trailed off as he knelt down, feeling the dampness of the grass soak into his knees, and looked with no small amount of concern at his fallen Pokemon. As soon as he had, however, it was gone. Looking up quickly, he beheld Jackson, who had apparently just shot up six feet into the air, levitating in place and audibly humming with annoyed determination, its sleek blue-and-silver body sparkling wherever it wasn't flecked with grass and earth. He caught his breath in surprise; very rarely had he seen his Pokemon looking this serious…

And then it was gone again, streaking bullet-like to another spot above the battlefield, where it abruptly decelerated back to hovering and remained stock-still in the air for a few moments. Squinting, Varacei noticed a liquid-like sheen of various colors building up in front of his Pokémon's nose, shimmering in and out of visibility in the windy air, before Jackson jetted off to another location some twenty feet away.

Across the field, Mycroft was wearing another puzzled expression as both his eyes and those of the Welzz tracked Jackson's seemingly random progress through the air. After a while, however, Mycroft turned away to take a closer look at the odd psychic fields that it had been generating all over the field. There was something about them that he didn't like, but to his intense frustration, he could not pinpoint for the life of him exactly what was amiss.

There was nothing for it, the refined Trainer concluded with a frown. "I hate to ask you this, Varacei," he called across the field, "but do you _know _exactly what it is that your Pokemon is up to?"

His opponent shrugged, looking nonplussed but not exceptionally concerned. "Ah, not really. He just kind of started doing that; I usually let him make up his own plans when he wants to. Jackson can be pretty unpredictable, you know"—"Yes, I did notice," Mycroft interjected—"so usually it tends to work out better this way than if I call every attack." He shot Mycroft a cheerful, self-assured grin, but the Trainer from Lilycove couldn't help noticing that it looked a bit fragile, like that of someone setting off for adventure, unsure if he would ever be seen again. "I guess we're both going to be surprised."

Mycroft adjusted his spectacles with an equally nervous air, reflecting that between Jackson and his own Welzz, it was becoming hard to say exactly who was controlling the battle by this point. He rubbed the side of his chin thoughtfully, for once at a total loss for strategy…then looked up sharply as Varacei let loose a sudden, triumphant shout.

In a dramatic change from his earlier nervous state, the Trainer from Lavaridge was now trying and failing to conceal a growing expression of stunned, thrilling glee. "Mycroft!" he shouted across the field, practically dancing in place from excitement. "I just figured out what it is that Jackson's up to. You are NOT going to like this one…"

Mycroft's frown deepened. His nasty suspicions had just gained a good deal more evidence, but he still couldn't tell what conclusion he was supposed to be reaching. _I suppose, _he mused, _that the fields would be something defensive; they generally resemble those generated by Protect or Light Screen. I don't really see how that would come as such a pleasant surprise to Varacei, though…_

Mycroft stole a glance at the Welzz, whose eyes were still silently following Jackson as it zipped through the sky. The sunlight reflecting through the shields in midair was casting a rippling glow on its normally dark blue skin, shading it to more of an aquamarine hue. The problem, Mycroft reflected, was that there was no one defensive move that cast that shade.

_No _one _defensive move….could they be combined somehow? I still don't quite see the point of that; it would still be possible to work around multiple shields of that size. If that was Jackson's intent, why were they not packed closer together to form one massive wall?_

With a squint, Mycroft slowly stepped back and surveyed the shields hanging in the sky, where the two titanic Metagross had been dueling not twenty minutes earlier. What _was _it about the placement?

And then he knew.

Mycroft Williamson's hands began shaking uncontrollably, and he felt as if the salty wind had the strength to blow him over; that his expensive suit was merely the rags of a fool. And the man of logic and planning was swept forcibly into an emotion he had not experienced for more than a year.

This, _this _was panic…

* * *

Alexandria de la Roche's purple sandals slapped rhythmically against her heels as she dashed across the cool, polished tiles of the lobby of her hotel, the Pokѐtopia Grand, headed straight for the videophone booths in the back corner. As she collapsed into one of the booths, the sudden movement flung her Chinchou, which had been clinging to her beret for dear life with its stubby little fins, somersaulting forward off of her head and onto the desk, where it regarded her in a disgruntled manner that suggested it was deciding whether or not to give its Trainer a rousing zap.

Alex was far too excited to really notice her Chinchou's irate, sparking condition. An exhilarated, radiant smile still stretching across her face, she punched out the well-remembered number for Vita Breeding Ranch and stared impatiently at the screen as it began searching for a connection.

Seconds later, the monitor lit up with the warm, familiar smile of Alex's older brother. Isaiah de la Roche looked much as he had when Alex had left for Pokѐtopia a week previously—dressed in a simple, functional ensemble, his white hair in uncombed disarray, his relaxed demeanor broken only by the intensity of his icy blue eyes. He broke into a grin at the sight of her. "Alex! Hey! How's it going?"

Alex looked as calm as she possibly could, considering that she had just received a shock of considerable amperage from her Chinchou. "Izzy. Good to see you."

He chuckled at this. "Chinchou get you again? Sorry about that. Right now I'm working with this Ampharos that has like the exact same personality—it's been a nightmare. Thank goodness for rubber gloves!"

Alex laughed outright at that, and the ice that she had been momentarily shocked into was broken. She immediately began chattering at high speed, filling Izzy in on the details of the past few days as quickly as her tongue would allow her. "Well, I guess you want to hear about Pokѐtopia, right? It's been _completely awesome_ so far! They had this huge banquet dinner last night, I just got done with a practice battle with this guy from Mossdeep City, and—oh my gosh, there was a Regigigas!"

Her brother paused to absorb all of this information, finally doing a light double take at Alex's last sentence. "Whoa, a Regigigas? Wait, seriously?"

Alex nodded excitedly. "It was Tower Tycoon Palmer's. He did the opening ceremony for the tournament and had it blow up this skyscraper into a bunch of fireworks. It was, I don't know how to…." She exhaled slowly. "Just _completely _amazing. I'll have to send you some of the photos."

Izzy grinned. "Sounds good! Hey, you mentioned a practice battle. What went on? You win in five moves like usual?"

Alex chuckled ruefully. "Well, not exactly…everyone was doing practice battles today, since we basically have a day off before the tournament starts officially, and this guy named Xavier challenged me to a battle this morning. It was…kind of exciting. It's been a while since my last professional battle, and I found out quickly that I was sorta getting out of practice just hanging around Vita all the time."

"Hey!" Izzy chuckled in mock indignation. "Raising the Pokemon with care is _so _much more important than going out and letting some stranger with a team of behemoths beat them up, and you know it!...so, the battle! What happened?"

Alex gave an uncertain grin and pushed her hair back from her face. "Well, in the end it wound up as a tie. Xavier's that guy with the radio who coordinates his attacks to music—remember, we watched that battle of his on TV last year—so I used Kirls to psychically change the station so it would match with Aron's attacks. And darn it, that was _loud!_"

Isaiah's grin deepened—it was a look Alex knew well, a sure sign of her older brother's long-abandoned passion for battling rising back to the surface. "Wow, I wouldn't have thought of that. You can really be pretty clever sometimes, Sis…so what made it end up a tie?"

Alex suddenly looked a bit guilty. "Well, it was all going really well until he sent out a Scizor."

The _bang _as Isaiah leaped up from his chair was loud even at Alex's end. "Oh jeez, NO! And on your first day there! What are the odds? Are you okay!"

She sighed. "Yeah, I'm fine now. I just kind of panicked, like usual, and it knocked out Rose before I even knew what was happening. I've _got _to find a way to get past that weakness, though!" Alex's voice was afire with a kind of frustrated vehemence. "What am I going to do if someone uses a Scizor against me in the tournament? It's not like they're just going to call a draw because I got attacked by a Scizor like seven years ago. We all have our problems—this one is mine, and I _have_ to solve it somehow."

Isaiah winced. "Well, I can kind of see what you're saying. Just…be careful. Okay?"

Alex nodded. "Of course."

Her brother brightened, and his eyes lit up with excitement as if a thought had just occurred to him. "Hey!...I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but…do you know anything about what's going to happen after the first part of this tournament?"

Puzzled, Alex retrieved her copy of the rules from her shoulder bag and paged through it. "Umm, it says there's going to be a "qualifying event" to determine who battles who in the Tag Battle round. That's pretty much all they tell you…why?"

Isaiah's expression took on a rather conspiratorial air. "Well, again I don't want to say too much, but they asked me to help with organizing that part of the tournament. I can definitely tell you, it's going to be…interesting. I don't think it'll be anything like whatever you're expecting.

"I've had a look at some of the statistics for this tournament. It really is huge, eh? Thousands of entrants…I hear there are even Trainers there from Orre and Isshu."

Alex's eyes widened. "Whoa, really? All the way over there…those guys have to have some dedication to take such a long trip, whoever they are. Maybe I'll get to see some Pokemon you can't find back here! I've heard all sorts of weird rumors about the Pokemon they have over in Isshu—ones made out of garbage, or that can change with the seasons, or something like that."

Isaiah's loyal Nidoqueen appeared behind him and stood there expectantly, a meaningful look in its serious blue eyes. "Oh, hey, speaking of which, I should go. I've got an egg that should be hatching in a minute or two here—it's a Tsutarja I'm breeding for a client."

"A Tsutarja?" Alex asked in surprise. "That's the Grass starter for Isshu, right? I didn't even know Vita handled them."

Her brother nodded. "My client is this aristocrat from Hioun City who wanted his kid's starter Pokemon to be born in Johto for some reason. It's a pretty expensive commission—I might finally be able to build that addition."

Queen tapped Izzy on the shoulder, looking like she wouldn't hesitate to step up to a Mega Punch if her owner didn't _get going, right now_. "Oh, jeez, sorry, I really have to go now. I'll try to call you back tomorrow!"

Alex grinned, happy to see the familiar sight of one of Izzy's Pokemon dragging him back to work. "Okay! Love you—'bye." The screen went dark.

The elegant marble lobby of the Pokѐtopia Grand reverberated with footsteps and conversation, the only patch of silence being the corner where Alexandria de la Roche and her Chinchou sat looking thoughtfully at an empty videophone monitor, thousands of thoughts competing for their attention.

* * *

The last puzzle piece had fallen into place, and Mycroft Williamson could see with a wretched clarity exactly what fate was about to be visited on his Welzz and, seemingly, his previously secure chances of victory. A small, traitorous part of the back of his mind could not help objectively, perversely admiring the sheer brilliance of Jackson's plan, and noting that beneath its spastic exterior there was a powerful, dangerous strategic mind unlike any the trainer from Lilycove had previously encountered.

For the most part, though, his brain was frozen in the same searing, initial chill of the panic that had befallen him, the immutable truth of what was about to happen reverberating endlessly through his head as though it were a hall of mirrors. And that, he knew, was the greatest irony of them all, for a hall of mirrors was exactly what he faced.

Yes, Mycroft understood it all at last, as clearly as though he had come up with the plan himself. Jackson's peculiar psychic fields had never been intended to be used defensively at all. Rather, they were set up at meticulously calculated angles so that an attack – a Hyper Beam, most likely – would be bounced back and forth between them on the same principle as a laser, its power gaining exponentially with each reflection. Finally, its power amplified more than any number of Nasty Plot boosts could possibly render it, the dreaded attack would slam straight into the Welzz. There would be no resisting it and no dodging – in normal circumstances, Hyper Beam simply did not miss.

Varacei, having observed the chill of realization deepen on Mycroft's features, was no longer attempting to contain his glee, knowing the first irresistibly sweet taste of victory at last … and slowly, excruciatingly slowly, Jackson was drifting into place. It was now or never … _But for what?_ Mycroft asked himself. _What can I do?_

And then, deep within the soul of the tall, refined man, a small but brilliant spark of something long-forgotten rekindled itself. A thrilling dawn of hope shattered at a stroke the dreadful chill that had gripped him. An exhilarating, fiery rush of pure spontaneity flooded through Mycroft's being for the first time in ages, translating itself into a clearly defined plan in an instant.

Mycroft Williamson was still very likely to lose this round. His opposition had not changed, and his chances of victory remained second to none. But he knew that _he was going to try,_ all the same.

"Welzz, _**that one**_!" Mycroft shouted, throwing out an arm to indicate one of the psychic mirrors, one that was parallel to the ground and which would reflect Jackson's attack upwards. Simultaneously the infamous rumbling, searing zap of a Hyper Beam being launched rang out in the waiting air.

Racing against time, the Welzz dashed forth, propelling itself forward as fast as its blunt fins would allow, while a deadly, dazzling light show shot through the air above it. In seconds it had arrived at the critical mirror and then done what it did best: shoved the entire thing into its gaping maw and then swallowed. This done, it hurled itself bodily out of the way just as the rush of light approached …

Mycroft, Ferk and Varacei all closed their eyes and braced themselves for the impact. The explosion shook the ground with the force, it seemed, of Groudon itself in a cranky mood, and echoed deafeningly into the air along with an odd, heavy rushing sound like something collapsing.

Ferk Ramalo was, somewhat predictably, the first to open his eyes, and immediately choked out a stunned, "I don't believe it." Mycroft had succeeded: the Welzz was lying flat on its back, conscious though looking really, really dazed, mere inches from where the errant Hyper Beam, deflected from its course by the whiskers Pokémon's timely intervention, had punched a hole more than four feet in diameter straight through the cliff, through which could be seen the sparkling ocean far below.

"_**Well!**_" Ferk said, still taking all this in. "I don't think I've _ever_ seen an attack quite that powerful, and I am _stunned_ that Mycroft was able to avoid it. Seriously, I … I just don't know what to say. Except that that was EPIC."

"Erm, Ferk? Varacei?" Rather than being exultant at his fantastic escape, Mycroft instead looked rather concerned. "Perhaps the two of you could do me a favor and walk over this way. What with that trench we put in the ground earlier, thanks to the Earthquake, and now this" – he indicated the still-sizzling hole in the ground – "that entire outcropping is liable to collapse without notice, and if either of you were still standing on it when that happened, well, that would be …" he paused thoughtfully – " … let us say, unfortunate."

The other two Trainers simultaneously cast a nervous glance at the ground beneath their feet. "Oooh, good point. Yeah, let's do that," said Varacei quickly, and he and Ferk painstakingly made their way back to safer ground, both looking as though they expected the turf to explode out from under them at any moment.

Mycroft breathed a visible sigh of relief, and the color returned to his face. "Excellent. Perhaps we should resume battle down on the beach below the cliff. In addition to being safer, I wouldn't mind a change of pace … and besides, we've chewed up this arena pretty well."

What a fight, yeah," Varacei agreed, nodding feelingly. "That sounds good, just … HEY! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"

For the Welzz, who had apparently been waiting only for the humans to get to safe ground, had suddenly galloped forward, leapt into the air, and seized Jackson in its jaws. The two tumbled into the hole in the cliff and soared downwards, the Whiscash's long golden whiskers streaming magnificently back in the wind, and with a tremendous splash they were gone.

All three Trainers gasped and ran to the edge of the cliff, just in time to witness the Welzz surface and swim exhaustedly to shore, spit out an unconscious Jackson, and then pass out itself. The second round was over.

* * *

"You know, by this point I'm starting to get an uneasy suspicion that we're getting more exercise in this battle than our Pokemon are, here," Ferk Ramalo muttered, as he, Mycroft, and Varacei finished carefully picking their way down the cliffside to the beach, where the battle would at last conclude. All three of the Trainers, having reached solid ground, cast thoughtful glances at the new arena. Fortunately, the tide seemed to be out for the time being, and the beach was bathed in a harsh sunlight where it was not shadowed by the cliff above it. Smooth sand dunes laced with a hardy, leafy vine of some sort greeted them at the end of the cliff path, giving way eventually to damper, harder-packed sand and the rolling waves. Varacei nodded absently, drifting over to the spot where Jackson and the Welzz, both of them still unconscious, lay on the damp sand that sloped gently down to the waves.

"It's been crazy, has it not?" said Mycroft thoughtfully, coming up behind him and studying the two sand-crusted combatants with a distant air. "I'm no stranger to double knockouts, believe me, but this one has elevated that concept to ridiculous extremes."

Varacei nodded with a wry chuckle. "Yeah, I really don't know who I should blame for this. Both of our Pokemon did some pretty stupid things, but I guess it all worked out in the end…sort of.

"Well," he continued, brightening, "only one more round to go before the winner is decided! You nervous?"

Mycroft groaned, his violet eyes raised to the heavens in exasperation. "Only as to whether all three of ups will survive to see this battle end. I must honestly say, Varacei, that when I challenged you to this competition, I was _not _expecting anything of this caliber. It's safe to say you've taught me a thing or two today." He recalled his Whiscash and turned the Pokѐball over in his hands pensively.

With Ferk refereeing and announcing, however, no silence was destined to last for long. _**"Ladies AND Gentlemen! **__WELCOME to the final round of the riveting, pulse-pounding matchup between __**VARACEI ALGER**__ of Lavaridge Town and __**MYCROFT WILLIAMSON **__of Lilycove City! Breathtaking clashes have met innovative strategy like never before today, and all that remains now is our STUNNING CONCLUSION! Mr. Alger, Mr. Williamson—__**ARE YOU READY?"**_

The effect of this speech was diminished somewhat by the fact that Ferk, worn out from shouting, broke into a severe coughing fit as soon as he had finished speaking. Mycroft and Varacei's eyes met, both of them wearing "Oh, Ferk" expressions, and a second later the two of them had seized the final two Pokѐballs and hurled them out over the sand. Light erupted onto the beach as the Cherish Ball and Mycroft's trademark Luxury Ball opened to release their inhabitants.

Gawain, Mycroft's trusty Gallade, stood ready at his side, its streamlined, green-and-white body blazing in the summer light, its shining, bright red eyes narrowing with focus as they beheld Varacei's champion: the tough shell, muscular build and steely cannons were all the hallmarks of a truly fearsome Blastoise. And once more, the tantalizing thrill of a battle about to begin filled the air.

"Let the battle—cough!—BEGIN!"

The fiery dedication that had descended upon Mycroft in the last round was clearly still present. "Leaf Blade, and dodge around to stop the counterattack," he ordered immediately, his wiry frame tense with concentration.

Varacei wore a sly grin. "Mazu, why don't we try the Aguabala?"

The Gallade responded instantaneously, giving clear evidence to an understanding between the two as powerful as that between Varacei and his Metagross. A piercingly bright spark of green light glittering at the end of its bladed arm, Gawain dashed forward, scrambling through the sand as quickly as it could, then suddenly jumped to one side to avoid a sudden blow from its opponent.

That counterattack never came. Aiming its high-pressure water cannons directly at the side of the cliff before it, Mazu fired a Hydro Pump and rocketed backwards in an equal but opposite motion. The burly Blastoise crashed into the breakers, skidding on the edge of its polished shell, and vanished into the sea, leaving only a smooth dent in the sand to mark where it had gone.

Mycroft frowned. "I hope you aren't planning to evade Gawain by having your Blastoise hide in the ocean indefinitely. There's really no point in avoiding the battle altogether, is there?"

Varacei smirked. "Oh, don't worry, Mycroft. She'll be back…soon."

And with that, the ocean exploded.

With a look of delight in its own power suffusing its bulky features, Mazu burst out of the waves about a hundred feet from shore and rushed forward, propelled by a full-fledged Hydro Cannon. Gawain leapt out of the way and stood to one side, nervously surveying this new development.

Moving closer to shore by the second, Mazu tucked into its shell and began to spin, erratically skipping over the waves like a massive stone, water still gushing from its cannons. As the bursts of water tore into the sand, however, they froze instantly, apparently having become Ice Beams at some point. In seconds, Gawain was ringed in sharp chunks of ice, and when the Blade Pokemon attempted to move it found its foot tangled in some subterranean root. Before the Blade Pokemon had even time to realize its bad luck, the next Ice Beam hit it head-on, gluing it to the spot, where it glowered helplessly at the approaching Blastoise.

Now only feet from its opponent, Mazu popped its head out of its shell and promptly began to glow with the beginnings of a Skull Bash. Mycroft watched helplessly, aware of the terrible momentum behind the combination.

In the last possible seconds, Gawain, looking truly afraid for the first time, threw out a fist in another Leaf Blade and closed its eyes. In a rush of saltwater and inertia it was over.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what even happened there? That was an amazing combo from Varacei and his Blastoise…could this be?..."

Mazu had clearly been struck by Gawain's heroic last-minute attack, and had been bowled over into the dunes, looking winded. But the Gallade was stretched out in the sand, the waves washing over its unconscious form, a peaceful expression on its face.

"And _that,_" said Varacei in smug triumph, "is the Aguabala."

Mycroft recalled his Pokemon without a word, then slowly turned to Varacei. "Now, _that _was a combo. My congratulations to you…you've very nearly defeated me altogether."

His opponent chuckled. "Yeah, you wouldn't believe how unlikely it was that that thing actually worked. At least seventy percent of the time, the other guy sees it coming and knocks Mazu halfway back to Kanto…but it's awesome enough that I keep on trying. Looks like luck is finally back on my side!"

A puzzled expression suddenly descended on him like a small cloud. "Hey, wait a moment…whaddayamean, _nearly _defeated you? I just knocked out your last Pokemon!"

Ferk nodded. "And it was, you know, a three-on-three battle…just saying…"

Mycroft allowed himself a subtle smile. "Well, yes, but if you'll remember, there was one of my Pokemon that you never knocked out at all." And with that, the Timer Ball was in his hands.

Varacei paled, the memory of the first round returning to him in a flash.

In a burst of red light, an injured-looking Carnegie expanded onto the beach, casting a long shadow in the late-afternoon light. "And now," said Mycroft Williamson, "It would seem that after all of the high strategy and clever tactics of this battle, the victory will be decided, as is so often the case, based solely on speed."

He took a deep breath and gave what he knew would be his last command of the day. "Carnegie, Hammer Arm."

His Pokemon roared and rushed forward, one of its two-hundred-pound limbs stretched to its fullest extent. That sight was Mycroft's last before, in the immensity of the moment, his world dissolved into a pulsing blur. Lost to him was Varacei's answering command, Ferk's shouted narration, the vortex of sand that surrounded the two Pokemon as they rushed toward each other, each only thinking of defeating the other and winning itself and its owner honor and glory. He only listened for the impact, and he was not kept waiting long.

_**CRASH!**_

And the sunlight gleamed off of silver and gold as Carnegie returned to him, triumphant at last.

Ferk gasped. But after a day full of shocks and thrills, it did not take long for him to find his voice again, and the final announcement rang off of the cliffs over the ocean. "Blastoise is UNABLE to battle—Carnegie is the winner, and the match goes to MYCROFT WILLIAMSON!"

The two contestants breathed a long sigh more or less simultaneously, then met and shook hands. "An _excellent _battle, Varacei," said Mycroft warmly. "I feel most privileged to have made your acquaintance."

His former opponent was smiling broadly, looking no less exhilarated for his loss. "Hey, call me Urya. All my friends do."

Mycroft wrinkled his brow. "_Why?_"

Ferk cleared his throat. "Uh, Mycroft, did you say something about treating us to dinner after the battle? I seem to recall…"

Mycroft Williamson cast a glance at the brilliantly setting sun. "You wouldn't let me go back on that particular promise, Ferk, would you? Well, it seems to be getting on to dinnertime, and you'll both be happy to hear that I am a close friend of the manager of Fire Blast Steakhouse here in town. I can secure us an excellent table in the time it takes us to walk there. Shall we?"

The three walked off, leaving a cliff that looked like the site of a bomb test behind them, thoughts of strategy and tactics effortlessly melting into dreams of peppercorns and sirloin, as the sun set on the last practice battle of the day.

* * *

Later that night, on the waterfront of that great city, the lights of a Regigigas-shaped building shone through the shimmering fog of a balmy tropical night, pulsing softly in rhythm with the waves roaring in the distance. Within that building, a computer programmer working with the tournament, unknown to all but his colleagues and friends, was a keystroke away from completing a momentous task, though one for which he would go almost totally unrecognized.

He paused for a moment to glance thoughtfully at the screen. He had only to hit Enter, and the next day's battle schedules would go online, effectively beginning the tournament. The photographs of the Trainers all stared back at him—_such determined faces for people so young,_ he mused. _Maybe I shouldn't have gone with the indoorsy career, after all…I can't help but wonder what it must be like to be that passionate about something._ There was an odd wistfulness to one of the first competitors, though…

Indulging in his little bit of theatrics despite being virtually alone in the room, the programmer stepped back and slammed the Enter key down with a flourish. A brief hum of his computer's fan, and it was done.

Rising fully with a groan, the programmer whistled to his pet Ariados, which had been napping in a corner, and wearily pushed open the door, heading outside as quickly as he could with the magenta arachnid scuttling faithfully behind him.

Seconds after he stepped out into the windy air, he heard a sharp _bang, _from which direction he couldn't say. Pausing for a moment, he concluded that it must simply have been some kids having a late Pokemon battle and strolled off for his apartment.

He was far too far away to have seen either the Toxicroak building rocked by a flash of light, and the dim shape of a human on a Pokemon drifting away from the impact, deeper into the city, or, miles away, the edge of an ocean cliff finally giving way, as if in sympathy, and roaring down to the hungry waves below.

The palm trees continued to toss in the wind, the many secrets of the island hissing through their fronds and out into the dusk.

* * *

**Well, at last it concludes! Hope you enjoyed it to the fullest, also hope you're still awake. I assume all of the drama and explodey parts were sufficiently stimulating to keep you conscious! Character credits, before I forget:**

**-Varacei Alger—"Urya," now—Startix, Master of the NoLess**

**-Mycroft Williamson, computer programmer—myself**

**-Ferk Ramalo—SilentlySnowing**

**-Alex and Izzy de la Roche—nellchan0013**

**-The Trainer—oh, don't you wish you knew!**

**On that last note, I suppose I don't have to tell you that that scene will be VERY significant. I hope I conveyed the ominous mood adequately. Ahh, Kingdom Hearts stole my "the organization" name, or vice versa…but HA, mine is in cool lowercase!**

**I couldn't resist teasing a little Pokemon Black and White there…as you can see, due to its being far away geographically it won't play a major role in the story, but you can expect a few little surprises. And if you give me a character who plausibly owns one of those nifty new 160-odd Pocket Monsters, I will accept them!**

**I hereby promise to you, with my profound apologies, that I will never let a chapter go this late again. You all deserve more than that for your dedication, no matter how busy my life gets, and you'll be happy to hear that I'm already well underway with Chapter 11. Despite the delays, I hope that the Practice Battles double trilogy was everything you could've hoped for!**

**One more note: I may be starting a webcomic next summer. Look out for that one! Just to keep you posted there.**

**And this is a whopping THIRTY-SEVEN pages in Word…my favorite number, as luck would have it.**

**Maecenas out. Thank you all, and stay tuned!**


	11. Chapter 11: Proelium Committamus!

Chapter 11: Proelium Committamus!

**Disclaimer: In 2010, I owned nothing but Maecenas, Mycroft, and the plot, and barring any earth-shattering events, the same will persist into the new year. And now, a slightly shorter (e.g. NOT 37 pages) but still utterly fascinating Pok****ѐ****topia chapter!**

The view from the upper floors of the Pokѐtopia Grand was an expansive one, encompassing what seemed to be miles of the glittering city that surrounded the four-star hotel. From any suite balcony, a guest of the Grand could gaze down at the matrix of streets far below, observing the urban bustle of innumerable Trainers and businesspeople as though through a microscope, or directly across at the many other skyscrapers of Pokѐtopia's busy downtown surrounding the Grand like a forest. Indeed, it was something of a point of pride with the Grand's management that when you reserved with them, you would be guaranteed a room with a view.

That view was at its most particularly exceptional at around seven-thirty on one of Pokѐtopia's many exquisite summer mornings. It was too early in the day for the heat to be unbearable, but there was absolutely no biting chill in the air—Pokѐtopia was, after all, a tropical island. So far above street level the air was fresh and invigorating, the shadows of passing Wingull and Pelipper sharp and clear against the cement below, and the sky often a simply indescribable shade of blue. No matter how seasoned the traveler was who occupied a suite at the Grand when these conditions were in place, he or she just couldn't escape an absolutely exhilarating sense of possibility, that the day could hold anything in store—a feeling particularly fitting for the morning of a new tournament's official beginning.

The sliding glass door of Room 918's balcony unlocked and slid open with the distinctive screeching crunch of its rubber frame, and Ferk Ramalo allowed himself a few moments to savor the cityscape from where he stood, his feet balanced on the shoreline between the rich carpet of his suite and the cool, creamy tiles of the balcony. The Trainer himself clashed with his surroundings about as much as a Jumpluff in the middle of a volcano. In contrast to the subdued elegance of glass, marble and chrome that defined his stateroom, Ferk was attired in his most eye-wateringly bright tie-dyed T-shirt, neon orange shorts, and a purple rimless cap. Even his hair, which naturally would have been an unremarkable blond shade, was highlighted with streaks of blue of such a violent color that it was surprising that they hadn't been convicted of visual assault and battery. Not even his eyes could escape the jarring explosiveness of his appearance—they were acid green, and currently sparkling as they focused on the vista in front of the balcony.

The view cemented Ferk's already strong gratitude to Professor Oak for having paid his way to the tournament in style. The contestants' village, he was sure, was all very well, but as it was hardly able to contain the more than one thousand entrants to the tournament he was glad he'd found such an excellent alternative.

_This sure beats all those nights camping out in the bush, beating Zubats off with a stick and trying to keep the bonfire from going out, _Ferk told himself, pulling up one of the balcony's two deckchairs and balancing his acoustic guitar—a customized model that he'd carved himself one memorable summer, with a stylized Exploud painted onto the body—on one knee. His Shedinja, who had floated out onto the balcony with him, gave him a creaky ghost of a middle C, then perched on the balcony to watch. After listening to the distant crash of waves and the more local rush of the city for a few moments to set the tone, Ferk strummed a few arpeggio chords to warm up before bursting into song.

"_This land is Staryu's land_

"_This land is Starmie's land_

"_From Snowpoint City_

"_To the Sevii Islands_

"_From the Ilex Forest_

"_To Hoenn's waters_

"_This land was made for Pokemon."_

At the conclusion of this opening chorus, Ferk paused, habitually glancing around in search of any of the all-too-common objections to his musical stylings. Reminding himself that he was on an isolated balcony eight stories above street level that was empty except for his own Shedinja, who had always displayed a general indifference to his playing, he sighed, shook his head and continued with the first verse.

_"As I was walking_

_"Route Twenty-Nine_

_"The sun was shining_

_"I was feelin' fine_

_"I was struck from behind_

_"By a Thunder Wave_

_"Yeah, this land belongs to Pokemon."_

"Ferk?" The familiar, resigned-sounding voice seemingly coming from nowhere startled the Orange Islander enough to make him drop his guitar pick, which bounced once on the tiles of the balcony before tumbling past the guardrail down to the balcony below.

Ferk Ramalo sprinted to the guardrail and stared down to the next balcony, and by so doing became the eighth person ever to see Mycroft Williamson in pajamas. This scene convinced him once and for all that Mycroft truly had no "informal" mode—even caught unawares at an early hour of the morning, he was wearing an ornate bathrobe draped over burgundy-colored pajamas of some extremely rich-looking material. The tall Trainer's hair, though damp and disordered, somehow still looked neatly arranged, and his facial expression—one of bleary disbelief—looked just as carefully planned as always.

"While I cannot entirely blame you for deciding to serenade the rest of the hotel on a morning such as this one"—Mycroft squinted up at Ferk, looking thoughtful—"it is my painful duty to inform you that you are somewhat out of tune."

Ferk groaned and lifted his guitar. "No, seriously? I _just _tuned this thing…I guess it's the salt air or something…"

"It's your _voice, _actually, if you'll excuse my candor," Mycroft muttered. "In any case, I was wondering if you'd noticed that the first tournament schedules were posted some time last night. Apparently the first battle will take place at ten o'clock this morning in Main Street Colosseum, amid much pomp and celebration." Producing a P*DA from a pocket of his robe, Mycroft paused while he accessed the battle schedules. "Yes…Nick Brooks will be battling a girl named Mimi Darius. I somehow suspected you hadn't heard yet."

Ferk nodded. "After all that intense practice-battle whatnot yesterday, I've kinda been taking it easy this morning. I don't wanna miss the first battle of the tournament, though, thanks."

He did a sudden double take. "Hang on a second. I'm not on today, am I?"

Mycroft grinned. "Somehow, I doubt it. I believe you would have been notified by now if you were battling. In any case, I believe you'll want to leave for the stadium soon in order to get a good seat. As I mentioned before, they're making quite a production of this, and I expect that a large number of utter fanatics have occupied the front row since midnight."

The Trainer from Lilycove turned as if to return to his suite, then, apparently changing his mind, looked back up at Ferk's balcony and hummed a perfect middle C before disappearing.

Ferk Ramalo paused thoughtfully, shook his head and started the second verse.

* * *

Any casual observer who had happened by the Pokѐtopia contestants' village the previous day would not have recognized it now. The difference could not have been more pronounced—what once had been a quiet space, its central commons populated only by a flock of excitable Wingull and the occasional wandering Trainer, was now the center of a chaotic mass of humanity.

The giant, computerized ranking board now—at least, in theory—bore the legend FIRST BATTLE OF POKѐTOPIA TOURNAMENT: NICK BROOKS v. MIMI DARIUS, 12:00 NOON, MAIN STREET COLOSSEUM, but few could verify this firsthand, as it had disappeared completely into the mass of Trainers surrounding it. The roaring noise of thousands of intermingled conversations only grew louder with each tick of the clock, the once tall and reedy grass had been trampled down into a frenzied carpet, and the cool morning breeze had been quickly stifled and replaced by the heat of anticipation.

Naturally, Lucianne Delaray couldn't stand it. "This is totally insane," she complained, her elbow knocking into the back of a spiky-haired Trainer with an Espeon as she turned. "How's anyone supposed to breathe like this?"

"You're not wrong there," sighed a rueful voice somewhere to her left. "I mean, anyone with a P*DA can read who's going to be in the battle anyway, but, ooh, no, let's all stumble around the main board and talk about it loudly, all at the same time!"

Looking around to see who had spoken, Luce quickly spotted a girl of about seventeen standing several feet off to her left and regarding her with a wry expression. For a split second, Luce pondered the pros and cons of continuing the exchange. She heartily agreed with the stranger and would be glad of a chance to vent, but on the other hand, she had been avoiding company even more than usual since the banquet incident. Furthermore, she wasn't sure if a brief conversation would be worth fighting through the chunk of the crowd that separated them, including – she noticed with distaste – Kane Yaiba, who was loudly arguing with someone about Effort Values a short distance away.

Luce's past life gave her a little mental nudge, which felt oddly like the nose of her Camerupt. She noticed that the stranger, who was strikingly dressed in black and white, had short blue hair almost exactly like hers. Luce's face broke into a wide and slightly nervous grin, and she strode, businesslike, towards the other girl, taking care to accidentally step on Kane's feet as she went.

"Are you sure we're not related or anything? Those were my own thoughts exactly. I'm Lucianne Delaray," she added, her voice taking on a slightly apologetic note.

The stranger shook her hand. "Celeste Skye. C'mon, let's get out of here, shall we?"

Celeste led the way, plowing remorselessly through the crush of Trainers until the two of them stood at the outskirts of the commons. Luce heaved a sigh, grateful for a breath of air to call her own.

Her companion suddenly adopted a dangerous look, her icy blue eyes dripping with mischief. "They all need to cool down, don't they? Glyde, do some crowd control. I mean cloud control." She chuckled. "Hah, I made a pun and I didn't even know it!"

Celeste's Abomasnow exploded into being some distance away and stretched expansively, its mighty green-and-white arms whooshing through the air like demented tree trunks.

The blue, cloudless sky arbitrarily began to snow.

Celeste recalled her Pokemon just as a wave of complaint began to move through the mass of suddenly chilled contestants. "I'm totally obsessed with Ice-types," she explained. "It's been really coming in handy in weather like this. Anyway, if we want to get stadium seats ahead of the Raging Mob of Fanatics, we should hurry. Race you to main street, Lucianne!"

Luce's once-nervous grin grew more sincere every time her feet hit the path. Blinking snowflakes out of her eyes, she realized two things: That she had apparently made her second friend in as many days, and that her Camerupt really had been right after all.

* * *

"Mimi Darius, huh?"

"Yeah, I can't believe it. I saw that girl practically every day for like ten years, and then the next time I see her she's opening this tournament! You going for the cheese fries?"

Maecenas Augustus Octavian, Xavier Omnik, and their new friend Media – whom Maecenas had briefly met at the banquet – were standing in line at one of main Street Coliseum's many concession stands, eyeing the menu thoughtfully, the pulsing heat of the sunlit cement all around them. Media grunted. "Speak for yourselves, but I've gotta have a burger today."

Maecenas grinned, beginning to scrounge through his shoulder bag. "Then that last slice of sausage pizza is all mine."

Purchases in hand, the three of them began to stroll towards the stadium entrance, joining a steady stream of early arrivals, all of them still talking excitedly about the upcoming match.

"So what's this Mimi girl like?" Xavier asked Maecenas thickly through a mouthful of ice cream, guitar chords already dancing through his headphones.

His companion shrugged, studying one of the many posters of the contestants that had been put up around Main Street. Mimi Darius' face, framed by a dramatic backdrop of Mount Coronet, stared back at him. Maecenas almost imagined that she was daring him to say that she could possibly lose.

"Mimi? She's … extremely confident. She's a really good battler, too … I'd guess that Nick will have his work cut out for him."

"And you two grew up in Celestic Town together, eh? Must be kinda weird seeing each other again, now that you've both hit the big time."

"Yeah … " Maecenas trailed off musingly, his emerald eyes searching the cloudless sky above him. "Speaking of which, Media, I don't think I know where you're from."

"Just say the records got lost," Media replied brusquely, breaking neither his stride nor the stoic gaze he kept resolutely focused straight ahead of him.

Maecenas raised his eyebrows and decided to change the subject. "Come to think of it, I've never really heard of this Nick Brooks guy. Do you two know anything about him?"

Xavier shrugged, but Media grabbed his P*DA and started punching buttons. "Let's see – he's from Fallarbor Town, placed high in a couple of League tournaments – he's got a Blaziken, Castform, Ludicolo, and a couple others. Interesting, he looks a lot like that Kane weirdo. I hope they're not related or anything."

By this time they had reached the top of the stairs leading into the stadium, a pastel arena dotted with greenery that rose high above the street below. It was dwarfed, however, by the massive Pachirisu and Bidoof-shaped floats that towered over the battlefield, far larger than even any Wailord could ever aspire to be.

Maecenas looked at the gargantuan Bidoof and sighed, "you just can't get away from them, can you? First they're all over every route in Sinnon, and now this …"

The trio headed toward the giant rodents, hoping to find the best place in the stands from which to see the battle begin.

* * *

A tall, lithe-looking girl dressed in blue stood in the shadows of the Colosseum, far removed from the steadily increasing crowd that had been flooding into the stands all morning. She was paging intently through the _Pok__ѐ__topia Gazette_, a calculating stare frozen onto her attractive features.

The girl suddenly stabbed at a certain article she had found, recognition dawning in her eyes. Raising her left arm to her mouth, she spoke into the watch on her wrist, her eyes habitually darting around the shadows that surrounded her. "Okay, I found it. You're right about the planning – if this was any other day but the start of the tournament, everyone would have noticed. I bet I'm the first person all day who's read this."

Snapping the newspaper to fold the article back into prominence, the girl read in a dramatic voice, "'An explosion occurred at about 11:15 last night on a high floor of the Toxicroak building on Pokѐtopia's waterfront. No major structural damage was caused, but repairs are estimated to…' yadda yadda…" her eyes skimmed the rows of type like a rock skipping over the surface of a pond. "Ah. 'The organization currently working in the building's top floors, Cinque Research and Development, disclaimed responsibility, blaming a gas or electric problem for the incident.' Riiiight."

Her contact let the silence blossom in the air for a moment. "Well, there seems to be a lot to read between the lines there. I'd appreciate the benefit of your professional opinion."

The girl frowned, brushing her hair out of her eyes and kicking absently at a crumpled paper bag near her foot, starting slightly as a dingy-looking Rattata shot out of it and dashed away. When she spoke, it was in a more measured and careful tone than she had used earlier. "Well…I kind of doubt that an organization would blow a hole in their own building, unless they have some really low hiring standards for grunts….and I…kind of doubt that somehow. I guess an experiment could have gone wrong or something, but that seems unlikely."

She took a deep breath, her already pale skin totally draining of color as she did so. "I think…th-that it was someone like me. Maybe he got cold feet and tried to escape."

"Mmm. That does sound likely," mused the girl's confidant. "The evidence does sound like classic 'signs of a struggle.' You mind checking that out?"

She sighed. "Not until later. The tournament's starting in a half hour; I want to be sure I get a good seat."

"Well, I'm glad you've arranged your priorities so nicely," the other stated evenly, evidently trying and succeeding to keep the sarcasm from his voice. He sighed. "Well, that is part of why you're here, after all, and you've already done a lot for us in the past day or two. We're tremendously proud of you, Lauren."

She nodded briskly. "Thanks. I'll just let whatshisname know about this before I grab a seat. I'll keep in touch."

Touching a button on the watch and breaking the connection, Lauren stuffed the newspaper into her shoulder bag and retrieved a shiny key card. Turning it over, she examined its surface very carefully.

* * *

In the heart of the stadium, Media's Pokѐtch began to beep.

* * *

Megan Rayme was unquestionably one of the "fanatics" that Mycroft had mentioned, something she would have admitted with pride if she'd been asked. Far too excited to remain asleep for long, she had noticed the new battle schedules almost immediately after they were posted. Before the first hints of dawn had appeared on the horizon, she'd been on her way from the contestants' village to the stadium, pausing only to call Maecenas and postpone their battle until later that afternoon. Practice battles, Megan told herself, were all very well, but the official beginning of a tournament was something else altogether.

Megan just couldn't stop herself from grinning as she leaned forward in her seat, staring at the empty (for now) battlefield and savoring the building thrill of anticipation in the air.

She checked her Pokѐtch for what felt like the hundredth time. Less than fifteen minutes to go now until the match kicked off, although the truly deafening noise of thousands upon thousands of fans could've told her as much. Overall, it was precisely the kind of atmosphere that Megan lived for.

"This is gonna be awesome," she happily informed a complete stranger to her left, a thin, pale girl dressed in red and gold who mouthed, _I know! _in reply, her mismatched green and blue eyes glowing in exhilaration.

_If I'm this excited now, just as a spectator, _Megan mused, _what must it be like to actually be down there, preparing for battle?_

_

* * *

_

Nick Brooks was panicking. He had arrived at Pokѐtopia fairly late compared to most of the other contestants and had always been susceptible to jet lag, and as such had slept in quite late indeed that morning. His Castform, Nimbus, had woken up long before he had, and, all other methods failing, had finally been reduced to waking up his Trainer by generating a small hailstorm directly over Nick's bed.

This was far from an ideal way to wake up, but Nick was grateful enough when he saw that he would be one of the opening contestants of the Pokѐtopia Tournament in less than an hour. Somehow or other—the details had been lost in the rush—he'd managed to throw on a hoodie and a pair of jeans, make sure all of his Pokemon were with him, and make a mad dash for Pokѐtopia Main Street, taking time along the way to muse that out of hundreds of tournament contestants, this had to happen to _him. _Sooner or later he'd arrived at the Colosseum, shaken off the exasperated looks of the tournament staff, and been shown to the right room. There he stood now, marveling at just how quickly an hour could pass.

With a start, he realized that his dark hair was still hanging loosely around his shoulders. _You don't want it getting in your eyes in the middle of the battle, you idiot! _he chastised himself, hurriedly bunching the spiky mass into a messy ponytail.

_That'll have to do, _he reflected grimly. _Hopefully girls will go for that careless, unkempt look. _

Staring at the clock as nervously as though it were a seriously annoyed Garchomp, Nick grabbed his P*DA and accessed Mimi Darius' page.

Images of her Pokemon stared back at him: Lickilicky, Heracross, Fearow, Ninetales. Nick couldn't help being a little unnerved by the incomplete team, especially given the rows of credentials and accomplishments that filled the screen below it. How good _was _this girl, if she didn't even need six Pokemon to win?

"Well, at least I know what I'm getting into," he told the blue door that he would walk through in a matter of minutes to face his fate. It stared back at him blankly.

With six minutes to go before his grand entrance, Nick Brooks took several deep, calming breaths and began to plan his strategy.

* * *

In the Colosseum, it was as though the very atmosphere had been set aflame.

A huge musical ensemble blared a sweeping and epic score, dueling outright with the thunderous roar of countless people and Pokemon. A titanic digital clock opposite the stands counted down the seconds incessantly: 2:59, 2:58, 2:57…

Even here, in the heart of an uncontrollable tumult of heat and noise, Pokѐtopia asserted its true nature of a tropical island. The expectation was more like a massive ocean wave than anything else, sweeping through the stands, cresting higher and higher still…

A bell tone boomed out over the masses, and both doors into the stadium hissed open at once. Simultaneously, the clock collapsed into a burst of digital flames and was replaced by a scoreboard, blank for the moment.

Nick and Mimi slowly walked out onto the field and met in the center, shaking hands. Nick's entire frame was shaking as well; he heard nothing of the noise of the crowd, which had coalesced into one great scream, nothing of the announcer's excited voice reverberating in the air.

Nick Brooks stared at the mass of faces in the audience, the giant Pachirisu and Bidoof towering over them all. The Trainer from Fallarbor Town struggled to draw forth his courage, as though it was part of another life altogether. His hand automatically moved to the gold, heart-shaped necklace he was wearing, which shone like fire in the glare of the sun, and a momentary spark of peace stole through him.

He grabbed a carefully chosen Pokѐball off of his belt. Like his opponent, whose piercing green eyes betrayed no outer sign of nervousness, and like all of the Trainers in the audience, he was waiting. Waiting for the one sentence from the announcer that they all knew was coming. Waiting for a sentence that finally rang out in the air, sending two Pokѐballs. blazing red and white in the summer heat, soaring into the stadium.

"LET THE BATTLE…..BEGIN!"

The two Pokemon faced each other, and the Pokѐtopia Tournament began.

**And so Chapter 11 concludes! Happy New Year to you all, consider this a little present. Next time, the first battle will take place in full (barring a cliffhanger).**

**Here are the character credits, though I fear that some of my usernames have become outdated (no offense meant):**

**Ferk Ramalo—SilentlySnowing**

**Mycroft and Maecenas—Yours Truly**

**Lucianne Delaray—K. Fang**

**Celeste Skye—Nicole Vermillion**

**Kane Yaiba—Ability King KK (last time I checked; his name may have changed again)**

**Ziste Katsuya (who was unnamed; he's the spiky-haired Espeon guy)-Ziste**

**Media-MediaMessiah**

**Xavier Omnik-LastPrelude**

**Lauren: Tyltalis **

**Megan Rayme: Fire Drastar**

**Rhoslyn Reyes: The Artist Formerly Known as Thunderstorm k i s s e s (which has since changed)**

**Nick Brooks: Supreme Kimchi**

**Mimi Darius: PokemonJoe1**

**Note to the fans of my other fanfiction, The Rising Stars: Renovations and Chapter Five are nearly done. When the Lost Hero came out, it basically invalidated all my Jason Williams plans, so I've updated and modified the whole thing. You can look forward to that in (HOPEFULLY!) Early January.**

**Thanks for sticking with me all this time, and welcome to the REAL Pok****ѐ****topia Tournament!**

**Maecenas out.**


	12. Chapter 12: Round One

Chapter 12: Round One

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon or any of its associated properties, although I do have one pretty awesome Garbodor on my White Version team for what that's worth. Individual OC credits, as usual, will follow.**

**At last, the wait is over…!**

Heracross, Nick Brooks mused, were friendly-looking Pokémon, with their warm yellow eyes and upturned, smiling mouths. Many Trainers he had met appreciated their power, to be sure—after all, the razor-sharp horn and muscular clawed arms the species possessed weren't just for show—but he couldn't think of anyone who would actually call them _intimidating._

About ten minutes into his first tournament battle, Nick was quickly realizing that that opinion was totally wrong.

His Flygon, whom he'd chosen to begin the match, was as always an impressive sight, its massive, insectoid wings beating the air as it hovered several feet above the shiny, pastel-colored stadium floor. But Nick was quickly realizing that the real juggernaut on this field resided in a polished blue-grey shell, and was currently fluttering heavily over to his side of the field.

Nick gritted his teeth, determined not to look like a total idiot in front of so many people. He was sweating like crazy, both from the tense situation and the angry glare of the sun, and the roaring of the innumerable crowd blended with the pulse of blood through his temples in a twisted symphony. He surveyed the situation as quickly as he could, and called hastily out to his Pokémon.

"Mr. Nibbles! Looks like some sort of physical attack coming up, so get out of range and use your tail to block!"

Mimi Darius had, until then, been leaning forward intently, perpetually fixing Nick with that green-eyed stare that had "just watch me win this" stamped all over it, her beautiful silvery hair moving slightly in the breeze. But at this, she abruptly crumpled into helpless laughter. "_Mr. Nibbles?_"

"Yeah….well, trust me, it made a lot more sense when he was a Trapinch," Nick muttered in response, he face burning scarlet. So much for not embarrassing himself.

Mr. Nibbles himself didn't seem to have any problems with his name, and had remained fixated on Mia, Mimi's Heracross, during the whole conversation. The Ground-and-Dragon behemoth knew it had an advantage in the fact that a Heracross' translucent little insect wings could barely lift a 119-pound frame, and granted the Pokémon little aerial mobility. Still, like Nick, Nibbles was well aware that this would be no easy victory.

Showing off a bit, the Flygon climbed upwards several feet, its wings sending a powerful downgust towards Mia, and lashed out with its muscular tail.

Nick had been watching this process with a smirk, knowing that the move would batter the Heracross to the ground without fail, effectively cutting off anything from a Tackle to a Close Combat. As such, he was unpleasantly surprised to behold a sudden flash of purple light as Mia moved in, followed by a disturbing silence as Mr. Nibbles slumped to the ground, his wings breaking the fall and letting him glide somewhat.

Icy panic flooded Nick's veins, shattering the warmth of the balmy summer rays around him. A Vacuum Wave, of course. The move was basically a Fighting-type version of Quick Attack, with the significant exception of the fact that it required no physical contact. And of course, "physical contact" was exactly what you would typically expect from a Heracross. Nick had to admit, it was the perfect sucker punch.

A self-satisfied-looking Mia shambled back into place, awaiting Mimi's orders. Nick's mind was racing, but he realized quickly that it was running in circles. In desperation, he decided to fall back on one of the most time-honored Pokémon Trainer strategies of all time: bluffing.

"Okay, that was a pretty neat little trick there, Mimi. What else do you got?"

As brash as his voice had sounded, Nick Brooks couldn't really conceal the dire straits he was in for long, and even he didn't find his boast particularly convincing. He fully expected Mimi to laugh it off, but instead found that she was still staring at him intently.

_It's almost like she knows something I don't, _Nick realized, puzzled. _Like there's something she's hoping I won't figure out…_

In the space of a second it hit him, rushing into his mind in a dizzying instant that made him appreciate how the Vacuum Wave must have felt.

Utterly disgusted at himself for not having come sooner to what now seemed like a blazingly obvious conclusion, Nick's next act was to join the already substantial number of Trainers who had smacked themselves in the face on live television.

_How did I MISS that? _He asked himself incredulously. Heracross was a Bug-and-Fighting type Pokémon. And although up to a few seconds ago he'd been too focused on the conflict itself to realize it, that meant…that the key to an easy victory had been with him all along.

Nick's face was still burning. The first battle of an entire tournament, and he'd actually forgotten about a double type weakness? He wouldn't have been at all surprised had Professor Oak himself come marching down from the stands to demand that he surrender his Trainer's license. _Well, at least I can make up for it now!..._

"Mr. Nibbles, _FLY!_"

A dismayed expression fell over Mimi's countenance as the Flygon returned to the heated air, this time soaring steadily upward until it was on eye level with the upper decks of fans.

Feeling like a Snorlax had just fallen off his back, and his heart now soaring with the clouds, Nick pumped his fist in celebration. Had he not remembered that particular move, he realized, things could've turned very nasty, but now his victory was all but sealed.

The announcer seemed to agree. "And after taking a _severe _beating from Heracross in the first few rounds, it would seem that Nick has finally hit on a solution! If this attack connects, it will be super effective and deal quadruple its normal damage. But will Nick Brooks and Mr. Nibbles (the announcer intoned the Pokémon's name without missing a beat, apparently having heard stranger things) be able to pull this off?"

"You know it," Nick muttered, grinning as he watched Mia make futile swiping motions at the air, unable to do anything but squander a turn. In such an important battle, every move felt like life or death, and he was savoring the reversal of fortune more than almost any feeling he'd ever experienced.

Flygon, waiting no longer, sliced through the air on an expertly plotted collision course, its gliding wings tucked close to the body to aid acceleration. Nick was on tiptoes. Three seconds to impact … two …

The _thud_ that followed seemed to shake the stadium floor. Nick froze, his mind outright refusing to accept what it saw: Mr. Nibbles lying on the floor in a battered heap, clearly unconscious, and a triumphant Mia raising a claw in victory.

"_Taken down by an intense blow!_ The blue corner now has the lead when comparing the number of remaining Pokémon – 3 to 2."

Gasping, Nick turned to the screen that normally held the scoreboard, which was now showing a multi-angle replay of the fatal few seconds. As Mr. Nibbles approached, Mia had apparently dodged, grabbed the Pokémon, and slammed it into the ground, taking advantage of its already substantial momentum.

Nick gritted his teeth and numbly turned back to recall his Flygon, feeling like Mia had knocked the wind out of him as well. "All right, Poketopia," he mumbled. "Not even gonna let me off easy in the first round, huh? Then I'll just have to step up my game … "

Nick's mind flickered through the remaining members of his team, felling a stab of panic at every new weakness to Fighting – or Bug – type attacks. He'd had no idea just how threatening that combination could be until it was staring him in the face.

_Looks like I've got only one option,_ he concluded. _But this oughta be good._

"Let's go, Colonel!"

Nick's first Pokémon ever, now a sleek and formidable Blaziken, burst from the ball and hit the ground in a crunching susurration of red and gold feathers. Colonel stretched itself in an elaborate, dance-like motion, then planted its feet on the ground and flung its arms back defiantly, a screechy roar escaping its beak and volcanic flickers of fire dancing around its wrists.

Mimi nodded in acknowledgement, a grim _bring-it-on_ smile on her face – but one that suddenly melted into a look of amused disbelief. "Colonel – as in _KFC?_ _Seriously_, Nick?"

_Oh great_, Nick thought, _first Mr. Nibbles and now this_ … "Hey, you gotta love Kanto Fried Chicken, right?" he called back weakly. "But you're the only one getting fried today!" _Ouch_, he admitted to himself with a wince, _that was really pretty lame_. His Blaziken, apparently reading his thoughts, turned to him and shook its head in exasperation.

"Flame Charge!" Nick yelled hurriedly, resolving to stop the banter before he humiliated himself on live television any further.

Instantly, he knew he'd made the right choice in sending out the Colonel. A serpentine, incandescent tornado of orange-white flames surrounded his Pokémon, and it launched itself at the opposing Heracross in a full-body tackle. Nick couldn't resist a muttered "yes!" as the attack connected in a scorching billow of fire.

Growling as Nick hadn't even known a Bug-type Pokémon could, Mia staggered back to its feet and immediately lashed out at the Colonel with a thorny fist. A billowing, blue-white streak of wind followed the motion and slashed Nick's Blaziken across the chest, knocking it to its knees.

_An Aerial Ace, _Nick realized grimly. _This girl is really playing to win … but I think we've still got one up on her._ "All right, Colonel, let's go!" he said aloud. "Start moving around, keep them on their toes … "

Ever the show-off, Colonel vaulted into the air and managed a complete somersault before crashing back down, powerful legs splayed, and scrambling away. Mia didn't hesitate to give chase, but it soon became clear that even with wings, the Bug-and-Fighting type was being hopelessly outrun.

Mimi's eyes narrowed as she watched the distance between the two Pokémon steadily increase. "All right, what gives?"

"Oh, didn't you know? Flame Charge increases a Pokémon's speed as well as doing damage," Nick retorted, grinning. He'd gotten the TM from a former girlfriend who'd once lived in Nimbasa City, and it had come in incredibly handy ever since.

Gazing happily at the battlefield and the packed stands beyond it, Nick allowed himself a satisfied chuckle. Things had been pretty tense for a while there, but it looked like he had things back under control. All of a sudden, he was in with a real chance to win this thing.

_So what?_ Objected a darker part of Nick's mind. _Maybe you'll win this battle, or even the whole tournament, but nobody you know is even going to be watching. What's the point of doing this over and over when you have no real reason for it?_

As soon as he thought it, Nick ground his teeth, furious with himself. That kind of thinking wasn't going to help anything. He was here because he loved being a Trainer, and he wasn't about to let a few nagging doubts stand in this way. He'd promised himself that long ago.

"Blaze Kick!" he snapped, forcibly shaking off his introspective mood. Hearing him, Colonel stopped in its tracks. The Pokémon's right leg erupted into a column of flame, and Colonel took off after Mia with renewed vigor.

Nick's grin slowly reappeared as he watched the chase. He was certain that thanks to the speed boost that Flame Charge had given his Pokémon, it would be only a matter of moments before Colonel caught up to the bulkier Heracross. He grinned across the stadium at Mimi, who shot him a defiant look in return.

He never even heard the impact, for it was eclipsed immediately by the crowd's reaction – a storm of voices so loud that Nick had no idea whether the audience was cheering or screaming. But although he may have heard nothing, he saw everything.

He saw the attack make contact with surprising force – even for a Blaziken—striking Mia the Heracross squarely. He saw that Mia had been hovering a few feet off of the ground in an evasive maneuver when the Blaze Kick connected. And as a result of this, he saw the Heracross flipping end over end, sailing toward the edge of the stadium – and the nearly eighty-foot drop to Main Street below.

Mia never hit the ground. Main Street Colosseum was ringed by a fence of sorts of large, metallic arches painted pastel yellow, some standing alone, some crowned by another arch to form a rough triangle. In mid-flight, Mia snagged on to one of these arches and hung there, balanced about ten feet above the stadium floor and ninety feet above the street.

The crowd gasped as thousands of spectators took in the situation. "A fierce attack by Colonel leaves Mia _hanging by a thread!_" declared the announcer. "What will Mimi do to get her Pokémon _out_ of this precarious situation?"

Mimi had gone suddenly pale, but she seemed to be thinking hard. Nick, having gotten over his surprise, was pondering strategy as well, wondering if there was any way to capitalize on his success without causing any permanent harm. At length, the trainer from Fallarbor Town whistled for his Blaziken, which jogged over to him expectantly.

Nick muttered a few choice instructions to Colonel, who nodded in appreciation and took off for Mia's part of the stadium. Upon arriving, the Blaze Pokémon looked thoughtfully up at the dangling Heracross, who was well out of its reach.

But Colonel didn't stop there. Without missing a beat, the Blaziken clambered onto the nearest arch, balancing with the skill of a professional gymnast. Within a few minutes, it was face-to-face with a very startled Mia.

Nick smirked. "Let's help you down, shall we? _Sky Uppercut!"_

Colonel slammed a fist, blurred with the speed of the motion, into Mia's armored shell, knocking the Heracross free of its purchase on the arch. Flinging itself into the air in pursuit, Nick's Blaziken followed up the initial attack with a backhand that hurled Mia back down to the stadium floor.

Colonel collapsed in a heap next to Mia, having had no way to control its descent, but its acrobatics had done their job. The opposing Pokémon was clearly unconscious.

"_Slammed_ 'em! Heracross is down, and the score becomes two to two," the announcer roared. "What can we expect to see next?"

_All that just to knock out one Pokémon, Nick reflected in disbelief. Hopefully this means that the rest of the battle will be easier_ … he glanced across the colosseum floor to Mimi, who was recalling her fallen Heracross with an expression that indicated no concern whatsoever … _but probably not._

Still, he couldn't deny that even temporary victory in a tournament this illustrious was quite a rush. He gazed fondly at his Blaziken, memories of their journey together flowing through his mind – the day he'd first met Colonel, the Pokémon then a young Torchic, himself an upbeat eleven-year-old. The Pokemon's slightly perverse fondness for a certain blend of herbs and spices, that intense week of battling in the Pokémon League. And now here they both were, posing their opponents a severe challenge in the heart of Poketopia City. There were probably many trainers for whom this would be a lifelong dream, and here was Nick now.

Nick Brooks grinned, exhilarated. The doubts and depression of a while ago had vanished entirely, and now the battle felt like on incredible adventure again.

Now looking just as confident as his opponent, he stuck his hands in the pockets of his hoodie and leaned back nonchalantly. "All right, bring it on!"

* * *

Following each knockout in a tournament battle, Poketopia allows contestants about two minutes to review strategy and select their next Pokémon. At face value, that might seem like an extremely short time period. But a lot can happen in about two minutes…

* * *

Rhea Abucayan was still intently surveying the field, despite the lull in the actual battle. She had the breathlessly excited look of a Munchlax that had stumbled upon a warehouse full of honey, and was chattering nonstop about her predictions for the next round.

Next to her, Sebastian Carreon still had the feeling that he was in the middle of an impossibly happy dream. He'd hardly been able to believe it when Rhea had asked him to watch the tournament opener with her. The two of them had crossed paths fairly often before, and even battled a few times, but Bastian had always had the impression that to Rhea, he was just something of a general acquaintance.

But now here they were, laughing and talking and watching a Pokémon battle like old friends. And she'd been the one to suggest it! Bastian had had no idea that she'd at all reciprocated his admiration for her.

_I guess things have a way of working out_, the Trainer mused, happily kicking back in his chair. All of a sudden, perhaps because he was so used to it, the exasperated face of his Mamoswine drifted across his mind.

_And you can just stay in your Pokeball and let me handle this for once_, Bastian added silently, before turning back to Rhea to talk about Nick Brooks' dramatic turn of fortune, trying to keep a slight stammer out of his voice.

* * *

Lucianne Delaray and Celeste Skye had managed to secure excellent seats overlooking the battlefield, and hadn't missed a moment of the intense action thus far. But during the natural intermission that had followed the knockout, Celeste had struck up a conversation with her companion, while Luce, having nothing else to do, had reciprocated.

"It's been a long time since I've been to a tournament this size," Celeste admitted cheerfully. "It's really quite an experience, isn't it? Thousands of people cheering in the stands, and then most of them are probably trainers too and we'll all be watching them later … "

Luce, who against all of her own expectations had been swept up completely in the excitement, nodded eagerly, her eyes shining. "This is my fist really big tournament, actually. I've turned down a few invitations in the past, but now I'm thinking maybe I shouldn't have. This is really fun!"

"I usually have to travel pretty far for events like this, since I'm stuck way up north in Snowpoint City, but I don't mind that," Celeste confided. "By that time, I usually really need a change of scenery anyway! "

"Whereabouts are you from, Luce?" the trainer asked abruptly, as if suddenly struck by the question. "I don't think I know … "

Luce bit her tongue to stop herself from groaning. _Oh, here it comes … _"I'm from the Survival Area, north of the Battle Frontier," she informed Celeste in a completely flat tone. "I was raised by the Tatei, a nomadic tribe that wanders around there, but I'm not traveling with them anymore."

This entire time, she'd been shooting Celeste looks that probably could've induced paralysis as well as a Glare attack from any Pokémon, but apparently her companion had missed the hints altogether. "Why not?" she asked innocently.

There was, however, no possible way that anyone, no matter how oblivious, could've missed the implications of the venomous look that Lucianne directed at Celeste next. The Ice-type specialist seemed to freeze a bit herself, and mumbled, "Um, okay. Question retracted."

"Good," Luce growled, looking away at the thousands of fans surrounding them on all sides. She sighed mournfully, feeling the beginnings of a regret that was all too familiar to her. For years she'd been a resolute individualist, preferring to face the challenges of life on her own rather than risk too many close friendships. There were many times when she regretted this philosophy – now being one of them – but isolation was habit-forming and she usually ended up shutting out potential companions. Like now …

All this considered, Luce was shocked to see Celeste still smiling amicably at her, this time with that characteristic mischievous edge she'd exhibited before. "Dark secrets already, eh?" she said. "You're my type of person."  
There were many people, Luce realized, from whom that would have come across as a jibe, but there was warmth behind Celeste's words. Maybe this wouldn't be so painful after all, she reflected, and smiled back at Celeste before she even realized it.

* * *

Mycroft Williamson, always an avid battle scholar, had been immensely enjoying the battle thus far, but in the brief intermission following the second knockout he was more than happy to shift gears to one of his other favorite activities: people-watching. The audience seating in a stadium of this scale was always a hive of activity, and he enjoyed seeing how far away from himself he could still discern individual faces in the crowd. Hawklike, Mycroft's violet eyes did not miss much.

Ever the social Butterfree, Mycroft had already taken note of several of his friends and acquaintances in the crowd: Varacei, whose short stature and dark hair made him stand out, Maecenas, Media, and Xavier perched high in the upper decks, Alessandra Cesarini, who was wearing a stylish wide-brimmed hat to combat the midsummer sun, and … and …

The trainer from Lilycove started, feeling an emotional jolt as he saw a familiar, yet highly unexpected, face seemingly leap out at him from the stands.

"It can't be…" he mumbled. Mycroft was well-known for being perpetually unflappable in battle, but now, he was well and truly shocked.

* * *

Ferk Ramalo started at his Pokètch in horror. He'd mistakenly assumed that he would have enough time to hit the concession stand before the battle resumed, but (somewhat characteristically) he'd wildly miscalculated—the thing was starting _now!_

"_Come on," _he growled at the portly Hiker in front of him, who seemed to be taking an agonizingly long time to pay for something as simple as a chili dog and a container of nachos. As the man ambled away, Ferk thought painfully of the thrilling competition that he was missing altogether, stuck outside the stadium in the company of a few stragglers and a few pretzels.

Making a snap decision, the Orange Islander released his Shuckle, grabbing the Pokémon and dumping it bodily onto the concession stand counter. Tossing the Bug-and-Rock-type his wallet, Ferk rapidly said something along the lines of "!" and disappeared instantly.

His Shuckle stared at the wallet in dismay, fully aware that its species boasted the lowest Speed of any Pokémon species currently known to science. By the time it finally returned to the stadium, Shuckle thought to itself, Ferk's pizza was going to be very cold indeed.

Heaving a little insectoid sigh, the Pokémon opened the wallet with some difficulty and began the difficult process of ordering.

* * *

Mimi Darius was in a good mood. Throughout all of Nick's moments of panic, she had remained steady, knowing that she was still only on her first Pokémon. And now that her opponent had rallied and managed to knock Mia out…_well, now things can start getting really __**fun, **_she thought.

Although Maecenas Octavian himself probably wasn't aware of it, Mimi owed him a lot for her present composure. The two both hailed from the small and isolated Celestic Town, and had both shared a passionate ambition to be great Trainers someday. Whenever they had the chance, they would borrow Pokémon from friends or relatives and battle, practicing for the day when they'd have to do this in a far more competitive arena…and thanks to that early start, it was pretty difficult to get Mimi Darius to panic.

_If you're in the stands, Maecenas, _Mimi thought, _you'd better watch this._

And in that moment, it was exactly two minutes after Colonel had triumphed against Mia.

Without hesitating for a moment, Mimi hurled her next Pokeball into the stadium, and stood there, drinking in the sunlight and the roar of the crowd. The battle began anew.

**Hey everyone! It's been quite a while since the last Poketopia chapter (my other fanfiction, Jason Williams, has gotten three chapters since, so I haven't been totally absent!); hopefully I still have some readers left. I also hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Sorry to end on yet another cliffhanger, but on the other hand that means a more epic tournament opener!**

**I'd planned to introduce a few more OC's over the course of the interlude, but I didn't want things to get too crowded. However, starting next chapter, a substantial number of new characters will appear.**

**With the tournament starting and all, I'd like to take a second to describe where I see this story going. As you can tell, it's already rather lengthy, and the tournament's only just starting! Well, as a huge Pokémon fan I have a lot to say on the subject, and I plan for this to be a sort of epic of the tournament, featuring many characters, battles and situations, and going on for almost **_**Odyssey**_**-like levels. (Well, maybe not quite that extreme…)That said, I have a distinct plot in mind, and if all goes well you should see who wins the tournament sooner or later. Cheers! **

**Maecenas out; character credits below.**

**Nick Brooks—Supreme Kimchi (Thanks again for the updated moves)**

**Mimi Darius—PokemonJoe1**

**Rhea Abucayan—gamings-reminiscence**

**Sebastian Carreon—Friend X**

**Lucianne Delaray—Kyuuketsuki Fang (I'm happy to be VIII!)**

**Xavier Omnik (mentioned)-LastPrelude**

**Media (mentioned)-MediaMessiah**

**Celeste Skye—Nicole Vermillion**

**Mycroft Williamson and Maecenas Augustus Octavian—myself. **

**Ferk Ramalo-SilentlySnowing**


	13. Chapter 13: Unmissable Events

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the properties associated with Nintendo, Creatures inc., or GAME FREAK. I now direct your attention to the thirteenth chapter of this fanfiction, which is an installment of considerable significance. In fact:**

"You can't miss it."

Maybe the phrase is hyperbole, but it still describes an immensely powerful phenomenon. Some events have a unique power to sweep up everyone's attention, dominating the thoughts and dreams of thousands. They will look forward to the event with seemingly endless anticipation, experience it in a thrilling rush, and look back on it for weeks afterward.

For thousands of people on Poketopia Island, the beginning of the tournament is just such an event.

But, though such a momentous battle is obviously a story well worth the telling, it is not the only important event taking place on the tropical island of Poketopia this June day. For, considering that the phrase "You can't miss it" is not literal, what of the people who, for whatever reason, _can _miss the battle, _must _miss it? What could compel them to avoid such a momentous event altogether?

What is it that _they _cannot miss?

* * *

In a quiet hallway, near the entrance to Main Street Colosseum's audience seating, there stands a Trainer.

On a purely visual level, the Trainer is unremarkable. He is a relatively tall boy of around sixteen, with sandy hair and a lanky build, clothed in a bright red T-shirt and dark jeans. The six members of his Pokémon team, released from their Pokeballs for a bit of exercise, crowd the hallway around him.

A massive Arcanine is curled up on the floor, and a Riolu, comically tiny by comparison, lies half-buried in the firebreathing canine's fluffy, rust-colored mane. A Staraptor glares at its own reflection in the polished, shiny wall of the hallway as if the mirror image has dealt it some great personal injury. A Vaporeon slaps its finned tail rhythmically on the floor while a spiky Sandslash bobs to the beat. And a Rotom spirals uncontrollably around them all, like a shooting star bent on mischief.

A typical Trainer, outwardly speaking: the living average of many of the tournament's entrants. But when the majority of those entrants are now crowding the stadium, wholly unwilling to miss even a second of the battle taking place there, his presence in this hallway is highly unusual.

What is happening now that, to him, can't be missed, even for the Poketopia Tournament itself?

"We don't really know what's going to happen now," he reminds the Pokètch on his wrist. "We have our theories, but when it comes to actual facts, there are a lot of unanswered questions. I think we need to meet somewhere so we can talk it all over in person."

"Very well," a female voice responds coolly out of the device, muffled somewhat by the cheering crowds on the speaker's end. "Where and when do you suggest we meet?"

The sandy-haired Trainer surveys the ceiling as if thinking; grins. "If I remember right, there's this really great café kind of near Neon Colosseum. Lunch tomorrow?"

In the blink of an eye the other voice's practical, formal tone vanishes, replaced by the very human tones of reluctance and trepidation. "Come on, can't we just meet on some street corner or something? If we have lunch together at some trendy café"—he can almost see her shuddering—"people are going to think we're…_dating._"

His grin broadens as he pictures what her face must look like right now; despite the look of disgusted horror that is likely spread across her features, he must confess that it still makes for quite an attractive picture. "I don't mind that if you don't," he tells her.

"You're _really _annoying," she snaps.

His tone remains content. "_Thank _you!"

The sandy-haired Trainer lets one second pass, then another, vaguely watching his Arcanine try to break up a fight that has broken out between his Staraptor and Rotom.

A dramatic sigh from the other end of the line. "All _right, _but if you're going to humiliate me like this, I think it's only fair that you pay."

The Trainer grins anew, not without a hint of relief in his expression. There's a part of him that is actually pretty excited about having lunch with this girl, even if they are only colleagues and the meeting was scheduled for practical reasons.

As usual, though, he lets no excitement leech from his thoughts into his voice. "There, was that so painful?"

The other end of the line goes dead. The silence speaks volumes, but they are all cues too subtle for the sandy-haired Trainer to decipher in his present state.

Seconds later, the cool serenity of the hallway is interrupted by a sparkling blaze of light as the Trainer recalls most of his team and dashes off for the stadium, his Riolu scampering along in his wake. His rendezvous planned and all of the practical matters taken care of, he is anxious to see the rest of the battle—in fact, he can't miss it.

* * *

The Poketopia contestants' village waxes and wanes much like the tides of the ocean that surround it. When no pressing event draws its inhabitants away, it is typically packed to capacity with Trainers, all of them brimming with energy and imparting a chaotic vitality on the small area. But now, with the vast majority off at the Colosseums, the village is almost completely deserted. The only sounds are the pounding of the distant waves and the screeching of Wingull, as though in a dirge for more exciting times.

But the village is not empty. Though it is indeed _almost _deserted, there is a reason for that "almost."

That reason is sprawled carelessly across the bed in one of the contestants' houses, his muscular arms folded across his chest. He wears large, silver sunglasses that smother his facial expression utterly, rendering his face a mask.

This Trainer is far from eager to appear in public, especially after what happened yesterday. The opening battle of a tournament? He can miss it. He doesn't care as long as he's not the one competing.

Rising slowly into a sitting position, the sheets crumpling under him, the man pulls a Trainer ID card from his pocket. The name on it is not his own, which is precisely the way he likes it.

But ID cards in general make the man uneasy these days. Nominally, he muses, they are used to identify yourself to an organization of some kind, but organizations have a way of changing your identity to fit their own standards. And the man in the shades has had enough of that experience to last him a long time. He is much happier to be an X factor.

This, however, is not the only reason that the man's other ID card now resides in the trash can. His distant attitude is a form of escape, after all. And it's impossible to escape without something or someone to escape _from. _

Right now, the man's pursuer is personified in the remarkably shiny, black and yellow card buried beneath candy wrappers and an old _Poketopia Gazette _in the wastebasket. And the man who put it there wants nothing more than for it to remain.

With a groan, he rises from the bed, careful not to strike his left arm against anything—for it is still blackened and painful, recovering from what must have been a nasty burn.

The man doesn't once look at the wastebasket or its black-and-yellow, shiny contents on his way out of the room. Maybe there's something good on TV, he thinks hopefully. He'd hate to miss that.

* * *

The coolly shining corridors that form the entrance to Main Street Colosseum reverberate with the clattering footsteps of someone in an extreme rush. Although the sandy-haired Trainer who paced these halls several minutes previously has now found his way back into the stadium proper, it is now apparent that his successor has not been nearly so lucky.

The originator of the footsteps, a blond youth with a panicked expression, dashes into an intersection, skidding several feet on the smooth floor after he stops running. His outfit somehow seems to outshine the dusty light cast by the fixtures overhead, and not without reason: he is clad in purple, and orange, and tie-dye, and several shades of blue, and…well, suffice it to say that he looks as though he had been dipped in a vat of electrified rainbows.

After several seconds of looking wildly around the intersection and muttering a few choice thoughts about the organization of the anterooms, the Trainer's bright green eyes lock on to a closed door on the far wall. A look of immense relief spreading over his face, he sprints over to the door and seizes the handle.

He is rewarded only with a metallic rattling noise and a strong feeling of resistance that, taken together, can only mean that the door is firmly locked.

This setback is sufficient to daunt the blond Trainer for almost a minute, but once that time has elapsed, his characteristic crafty grin has returned: he has a plan. Not for the first time this afternoon, he will enlist the aid of his Pokémon team to help return him to the tournament.

In the space of a moment, the blond Trainer's Probopass is hovering bizarrely in the middle of the intersection. Upon its master's instruction, the chunky, mustachioed Pokémon floats over to the door in a ruthlessly straight line. The three "mini-nose" units that the Pokémon controls, each one like a light blue Nosepass the size of a fist, circle the Probopass' body with increasing speed.

In a sudden, intense burst of magnetic power that makes the blond Trainer's eyes water, the door unlocks and swings open. With a yell of triumph, the Trainer dashes past his Pokémon…

And barely avoids colliding with a vacuum cleaner.

His exuberance rapidly drains away, and the resulting look of disappointment begins to congeal into horror. Rather than the titanic Colosseum bedecked with giant Pachirisu and Bidoof floats that he'd expected to see, the blond Trainer instead faces a narrow closet filled with cleaning supplies. He suddenly realizes how horribly lost he has been this entire time.

Seeing no other options present themselves, his head pounding with an urgent desire to find his way back to the stadium and "civilization," the Trainer recalls his Probopass, slams the door of the broom closet he's just broken into, and dashes off down a random corridor.

What follows, like so many previous events in this particular Trainer's life, proves to be something of a mixed blessing.

On the bright side, his odyssey of wrong turns is finally at an end, and within the span of a few minutes, the brilliant sunlight of the open stadium floods into the corridor ahead of him, the roar of the crowd growing louder with every step he takes. The downside, unfortunately, is that someone else happens to be walking in the exact opposite direction of the path the blond Trainer is taking, on her way out of the stadium proper. The blond Trainer, who has been characteristically running at top speed, is unable to curb his momentum and crashes right into the other spectator.

Before they have even disentangled from the impact, he is semi-coherently apologizing, talking as quickly as he is able. "Oh-jeez-I'm-so-sorry-I-was-lost-and-totally-wasn't-looking-where-I-was-going-I-can't-believe-I-just-ran-right-into-you FORGIVE ME!"

His earnest despair completely melts the anger of the other, who can't help laughing. "It's okay," she assures him, helping him to his feet. "Come to think of it, I owe you an apology, as well. Aren't you the guy Destructor hit when you were trying to break up the fight at the banquet a few days ago?"

"And you're _apologizing _for this?" he splutters, shocked. "Seriously, don't even think about it! That was _awesome! _I totally want to build my own mango cannon now, just to replicate the experience!"

The blond Trainer, needless to say, has achieved his usual effect utterly bamboozling the person with whom he's conversing. The indigo-haired girl before him now fiddles awkwardly with the two large feathers in her hair, seemingly putting off her response for as long as possible.

Eventually, she settles for the most neutral option possible, sticking out a hand in introduction. "Lucianne Delaray."

The blond Trainer lunges forward and shakes the proffered hand with great enthusiasm, doing nothing by halves even now. "Ferk Ramalo," he informs her.

There is a complex look in Lucianne's eyes, an expression far too subtle for the blond-haired Ferk—much more empathetic to Pokémon than he is to his own species—to decipher. "I came out here to just kind of take a break from it all," she tells him, a thoughtful sort of melancholy behind her words, "but"—behind them in the stadium, there is a sudden flash of orange light and the screech of a furious bird—"it sounds like I'd better go back if I don't want to miss the best part of the battle." There is an insistent squeaking noise as her shoe twists against the floor; she fidgets, ill at ease for some reason.

The same cannot, typically, be said of Ferk. "I'd recommend staying in sight of this door," he warns Luce breezily. "It's a total maze in there. I was lost."

Always an actor on the stage of real life, he shoots her a quick glance out of those acid-bright eyes, expecting a reaction of some sort. But Lucianne Delaray is a being of fewer words and a more measured character than he, and she only nods slowly.

A crunching noise echoes up from the colosseum floor, followed by a spike in the volume of the cheering. The sun on the back of Ferk's neck seems to be tingling; he can't bring himself to delay his return to the stadium a moment longer.

"SO, nice meeting you!" he blurts, and is gone. Luce watches him sprint back into the stadium for a moment, then turns away, back to the cool solitude of the corridors.

Ferk Ramalo does not notice, for he is, in a series of resounding _clangs, _pounding down the steps back to his seat, his signature intense grin spreading across his face. For this is what he had feared he would miss altogether, what the thousands of spectators around him are cheering for. The reason his Shuckle is, even now, still slowly returning from the concession stand, what he inadvertently broke into a broom closet to try to find: a glorious, momentous, _unmissable _event.

* * *

Though she wasn't a very mathematically inclined person, Mimi Darius had to admit that the life of a successful Pokémon Trainer involved many calculations. How best to train a Pokémon and unlock its full potential, many of the complex nuances of battle strategy, even the ultimate impact of a super-effective blow – really, it was amazing how much of it resulted from the subtle machinations of countless numbers and variables.

What Mimi was calculating now were the odds.

She didn't like them.

It wasn't that she doubted her Fearow, Amu, in the slightest – the Beak Pokémon, adept at both contests and battles, was an old and faithful member of her team. Still, against Nick's Blaziken … well, she still didn't love those odds.

As a Blaziken, Colonel was part fighting-type and, as such, vulnerable to Amu's many flying-type moves. But with that crazy Flame Charge move in play, increasing Colonel's speed repeatedly, whether she'd have a chance to use those moves was suddenly uncertain.

Ordinarily, this might not have been a problem for Mimi, but none of Celestic Town's blistering summers had prepared her for a truly sweltering July day in Poketopia._ How am I even supposed to think?_ She silently demanded of the climate in general.

That was when a very Mimi-esque inspiration hit her: _Well, maybe I'm __not__ supposed to think at all!_

Like her old friend Maecenas, Mimi possessed a highly impulsive spirit, tending to rely on instinct just as much as she did on strategy in most battles. Since calculating who would move first this time was next to impossible, she mused, perhaps this was the perfect time to throw caution to the winds.

_I hope this works_, said a smaller, more worried part of Mimi's mind, and she tugged nervously at the hem of her jean jacket. Her resolve was not too deeply shaken, however, and it was the work of a moment to call out to her Pokémon.

"Drill Peck, Amu!"

Her golden-feathered Fearow had been flapping stationarily in the air as its Trainer pondered, exchanging a continuing parade of "I'm cooler than you" looks with its opponent, Colonel. Despite this sedentary state of affairs, Amu whipped into action within moments of Mimi's command, diving at top speed towards the enemy Blaziken. About halfway through its trajectory, the Pokémon's needle-sharp beak began to glow with barely suppressed energy.

Unfortunately for Mimi Darius, the sizzling crunch that sliced through the summer air as the two avians collided was _not_ the sound of a Drill Peck successfully connecting. She quickly became aware of two key truths even without the clues her senses provided her: the sight of her beloved Pokémon crashing violently to the stadium floor, the sound of a pained screech being drowned by a raspy roar of victory, the bitter smell of burning feathers, the insistent, prickling itch of nervous sweat at her temples, the sour taste of sudden fear.

The truths were these:

-Colonel's move had been both a Blaze Kick and a critical hit, and

-This was serious trouble.

_Okay, calm down, Mimi,_ she admonished herself tensely, realizing that her pounding heart threatened to run away with her altogether. _We can survive this!_

The sole option she could take to rescue her Fearow was obvious to her. But even that was fraught with uncertainty, and the chances were still good that Amu would be brought down by a flaming Blaziken before it had the chance to act.

It was all down to this moment. Mimi drew a shaky breath, crossed her fingers.

"Amu, use Roost!"

But to her dismay, instead of settling onto the stadium floor to heal from its considerable injuries, her Pokémon immediately stretched its powerful wings and soared into the air.

Mimi's heart pounded as she watched the golden-feathered shape recede further and further into the summer air; her mind was struggling under a flood of powerlessness and fear. As far as she could remember, her Pokémon had never disobeyed a direct order from her before. Had something in her command been so unreasonable that Amu couldn't bear to follow it?

Weariness and injury evident in its movements, Amu continued to climb until it was several hundred feet above the stadium floor – precisely, in fact on a level with the Pachirisu and Bidoof floats that loomed over the colosseum. Amu made an ungainly landing on the Bidoof's nose and settled in, tucking in its wings as a powerful healing process kicked off within its body.

Mimi, a huge smile suddenly evident on her face, resisted the impulse to cheer. Amu had listened to her, after all – it had just found a way to use Roost and evade Colonel's clutches at the same time. And unlike the previous instance of one of her Pokémon being balanced above a massive drop, this time Nick's Blaziken was wholly unable to clamber up and intervene.

Nick, having evidently made the same assumption, squinted futilely up at the distant shape of Amu, then shot Mimi an extremely grumpy look. Colonel burst completely into flames out of sheer frustration, causing a nearby spectator's bag of popcorn to explode out of his hands as the unpopped kernels all burst simultaneously.

Mimi could barely even see Amu at its present altitude. The Fearow appeared as only a golden-brown smudge on the behemoth Bidoof's nose, but prior experience allowed her to guess how Amu looked: Peaceful and rejuvenated, newfound health coursing through its veins, relaxed as though the battle were a thousand miles away.

As the seconds stretched on, though, Mimi began to feel slightly uneasy. Some instinctive part of her mind was insisting that all was not well, that her success was going to come at a price…

The realization came to her in a second. Her stomach lurched, and her green eyes painted a picture of helpless agony.

It was a trap, a beautiful, deadly trap, and she had no one to blame for it but herself. Using Roost came with a downside – by tucking in its wings and beginning the recovery process, a Pokémon temporarily surrendered its flying type.

Normally, that wasn't a problem. But Amu had to act in this turn, or risk being disqualified from the match all together. And right now, it was stuck nine hundred feet above the stadium, with no way to fly down.

"Amu!" Mimi called, her voice faltering, then fell silent. She was far from certain that her Pokémon could even hear her, and besides, she had no idea what instructions she should be giving. It seemed that her only two options were losing the round by default, or … well, she didn't like to think what would happen if Amu let go.

Which was why she remained frozen to the spot, paralyzed by shock, as her Fearow unclenched its talons from the float and went into free fall.

The Beak Pokémon tucked its wings in close to its body, minimizing air resistance. Pure principles of motion did the rest, acceleration of 9.8 meters per second squared due to gravity, until Amu was a golden blur, plummeting at blistering speeds toward a stadium floor it must surely reach in seconds.

Then, in a sudden blur of motion, Amu's wings snapped open to their full extent, turning the end of the Pokémon's fall into a controlled, still blazingly fast swoop.

Colonel never even had time to look up.

The next thing anyone knew, the mighty Blaziken was sprawled unconscious on the stadium floor, knocked out by the sheer force of the impact. Above its crumpled form, Amu, its powers of flight now restored, flapped around and around in triumphant little circles, giving the occasional warbling crow of utter self-satisfaction.

A second before Mimi had been completely frozen; now, she couldn't stop her whole body from shaking. She simply could not believe what a risky move her Pokémon had taken, still less that it had actually worked.

Part of her wanted to jump up and down in excitement. After all, had it not been for Amu's quick thinking she would have lost the round by default; she had been miles away from coming up with any sort of plan herself. But on the other hand, she was uncomfortably aware of just how much had depended on the grounding effects of Roost wearing off in mid-fall. Was any victory impressive or necessary enough to be worth that danger?

_You don't really have time to worry about that right now,_ Mimi admonished herself_. It already happened and everything turned out okay, so be grateful and just go with it!_

Mimi half-listened to the announcer's booming statements, uneasily telling herself that she'd have strong words with Amu later. She began to feel pretty good about her chances – Amu was still fairly healthy, after all, and the Pokémon she held in reserve could handle anything Nick cared to dish out.

Her heart pounding with excitement, Mimi fixed her eyes squarely on her opponent, waiting for his next move.

A rattled-looking Nick Brooks produced his final PokeBall and hurled it out onto the battlefield. "Nimbus!" he called in a strained voice.

It took Mimi a second to spot his actual Pokémon – it was smaller than the little burst of light that had heralded its appearance. Nick's Castform bobbed in the air and let out a throbbing, alien cry of joy, fixing its beady eyes on the blue skies above the stadium.

Mimi had never battled an actual Castform before, but she'd heard about what they could do. She was pretty certain that this development spelled bad news for her valorous Fearow, and studied the tiny gray creature for some time, unsure of what to do.

_A pre-emptive strike is probably best,_ she concluded. _Just take it right out before it starts messing with the weather …_

"Drill Peck!" she commanded, her fists clenched so tightly that her nails were digging into her palms.

"Icy Wind," Nick countered smoothly.

Mimi groaned, her heart sinking, but it was too late. With a resonant whooshing sound, Nimbus expelled a cyclone of frosty air straight towards the oncoming Fearow. Amu saw the attack coming and tried desperately to evade it, but moments later it was caught up in the chilly vortex and hurled roughly to the ground.

Though Icy Wind wasn't in itself a terribly powerful attack, Amy had already suffered an immense beating, and Mimi could instantly tell that this was the end. Sure enough, her Pokémon remained inert and unconscious, a little lump of brownish feathers on the stadium floor that gave no hint of the hero of a few minutes before.

Despite her increasingly dire circumstances and still-pounding heart, Mimi couldn't suppress a grin as she recalled her fallen Fearow. _They sure didn't start me off with an easy battle, did they?_ she reflected. _Just the way I like it! … still, let's get that stupid gray blob out of the way right now. I did _not_ come here all the way from Celestic Town to get knocked out in the very first battle …_

She didn't hesitate for a second in making her final selection. Staring at the PokeBall in her hand for a second, she silently wished its inhabitant good luck, then flung the destined sphere into the arena, excitement flooding her being. _This is it. One of us is going to walk away from this as the winner … the other one's going to be watching the rest of the tournament._

The last two Pokemon sizing each other up, the two Trainers, one a slim, intense girl with silver hair, the other a lanky youth with melancholy eyes. The announcer, his avuncular proclamations thundering through the stadium. The thousands in the stands.

For this single moment, their many thoughts become one.

_ I don't want to miss a second of this._

* * *

**1: Media: ****Novum (formerly MediaMessiah)**

** 2: Silverfeather: …I'm just totally spacing on the correct username, sorry. If I remember, I'll add you in.**

** 3: Brown: Cyberwolf101**

** 4: Ramalo: SilentlySnowing**

** 5: Delaray: Kyuuketsuki Fang**

** 6: Brooks: SupremeKimchi**

** 7: Darius: PokemonJoe1**

**And I **_**was **_**going to just leave it at that, to keep things all mysterious, but it's been too long. Good to be back in the fanfic world! Hope you're all well and whatnot, and that you enjoyed the chapter (which was something of an artistic departure, I know). **

**Though it's been a while since my last post, I've been anything but inactive. Behind the scenes, this story finally has proper villains (that's right people, I was MAKING ALL OF THIS UP AS I WENT ALONG, but now there's a plan), which were hinted at in some of this chapter's opening scenes. Don't worry, things will stay tantalizingly mysterious for a while yet…but as always, stay tuned!**

**I've also published my third story, a Star Trek/Star Wars crossover called There Is Another. For those of you whose cup of tea this is, please do check it out, as I'm entirely new to crossovers (my beta-reading page still says I don't like them, I think, heh.) I'm writing There Is Another with Aberolingarn, a good friend of mine who currently has massive writers' block, but my next chapter is all written so I'll publish that next. Expect it this coming week, unless the Dark Side interferes…**

**Other than that, there's my theatrical and musical endeavours, a review series I'm developing (which may or may not see the light of day by this summer), and countless other facets of my fascinating life! Nonetheless, writing is still paramount, so expect to see something new soon. **

**Oh, and I'm sorry for ending the battle on a cliffhanger AGAIN, but I didn't want to make you wait any longer for this chapter (I've gotten a fair amount of praise for my battle scenes in the reviews, but they are absurdly hard to write, I can tell you).**

**Cheers!**

**Maecenas out.**


End file.
